


We Are the Wolves

by boldcreations



Series: Alpha Pack [2]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, F/M, Gore, Hurt/Comfort, Possessive Daryl, Protective Daryl, Relationship Issues, Sexual Content, The Prison, Wolves In Disguise, dark themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-04-17 05:13:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 29
Words: 142,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4653702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boldcreations/pseuds/boldcreations
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Wolves in Disguise. Daryl/OC. "To hold on to those that we love, we must fight. To fight, we must make our own sacrifices. But, it's worth it, isn't it? To keep our loved ones safe, and living? No force on this Earth, be it the living or the dead, can take my family from me." Jamie fought hard to find Daryl, but now that she is reunited with him she has to fight that much harder to remain at his side. However, Fate likes screwing people over and the small band of survivors are left to pick up their shattered pieces before there's nothing left.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Wise Fool Once Said

Jamie was folded up in the backseat of the car, sitting on her feet in an attempt to warm them up. Daryl had refused to let her ride with him on his bike while she was in her condition, so she was instead ordered to take Carol's place so that Hershel could check her over. With the farmer sitting beside her, there wasn't much that he could for her until they were able to find a place to settle down for the night and perhaps find some medical supplies that could fight off any coming infection on her torn up knee. It was a couple of hours after they had left the farm, riding through the back roads that were left deserted, when a honk came from the van behind them, drawing Jamie's attention up to the back window. Rick was slowing down, pulling over to the side of the road.

"You stay in here," Hershel ordered softly as he piled out of the car, the others doing the same, and leaving Jamie alone even as she tried to protest.

"Gotta be kidding me," she snipped as she reached down to the floor and picked up her discarded boots, feeling around the inside. They were still wet, but they weren't soaked and she'd have to put them back on eventually. Carefully manoeuvring around her abused knee, she was able to slip them onto her already cold feet and pull herself from the car, meeting Hershel's pointed stare.

Daryl was already making his way back to her from his bike, the others crowding up near the front of their line of vehicles. "You alright?" he asked, looking down at her leg. She was leaning heavily on her good leg, preventing her knee from taking any strain.

"Yea, why'd we stop?" she asked, looking around at the others.

"No gas left," Daryl explained, slipping an arm around her waist and allowing her to place her weight on him so that they could slowly make their way toward the others. Knowing that no one was going to take the chance to leave someone behind with the empty van, and not being able to pile everyone into the car, they would have to walk somewhere to find fuel.

"We'll have to make a run for some gas in the morning," Rick declared, looking back at everyone after he had taken a moment to inspect the road ahead for any signs of movement or trouble. Jamie didn't exactly like the thought of staying in one place for too long, considering what had happened the last time, but she knew that she sure as hell didn't want to be the one left behind with the van.

"Stay the night here?" Carol asked doubtfully, moving to stand with Jamie and Daryl.

Carl was shivering in his mother's arms, wrapped up in his sweater as he complained about the cold. They could all feel it, right down to their bones, but he was just a kid and they knew that he would be affected much sooner than anyone else would be. And it was only going to get colder as the day grew toward night, taking with it the last of their warmth.

"We'll build a fire," Lori assured as Rick shucked off his jacket to give to Carl, helping Lori to wrap it around his small frame. Jamie smiled in withheld amusement at the sight of Carl nearly swimming in his father's jacket, before she shifted closer to Daryl as a faint whisper of wind seemed to stab right down her spine.

He turned his head to press his lips against her still damp hair, the smell of moist leaves and dirt still clinging to her even after her dip in the creek. "Anybody goin' out looking for firewood needs to stay close, I only got so many arrows." Looking down at Jamie, he remembered that she had her rifle in the back of the car. "How you doin' with ammo?"

Thinking back to how many bullets she had stocked up with the morning before, she knew that it wasn't going to make much of a dent if they were attacked. "Not a lot, but a good amount. I never fired a shot yesterday," she explained, shivering again. The long sleeved shirt wasn't enough and the thin material allowed for the wind to travel straight through to her skin. Daryl tried to pull her closer, warm her up, but he knew that if he tried to give her his jacket she would refuse it. Jamie was mournful at the loss of his shirt that she had kept for so long.

Daryl looked to Rick as he made his way from Lori and Carl. "Not enough," he answered, his eyes turning to Jamie as she shivered against Daryl. Her lips were so pale they gave a blue appearance and her hair was still damp and clinging to her skull, leaving her to appear more sickly and weak than he knew her to be.

"Well we can't just sit here with our asses hanging out," Maggie threw in, getting scolded from her still present father who seemed content with reverting to the mother hen of the group.

"Everyone stop panicking and listen to Rick," Hershel ordered in the same calm and gentle voice that Jamie knew could hold authority if need be. Turning her eyes up to Rick, she saw the same look of strong concentration on his face that had become common since the time that they had arrived at Hershel's farm, even before then when he and Shane had been planning out different routes.

"Set up a perimeter for now," he finally stated, turning to look around at the ground. "Tomorrow, we'll set out and gather some supplies and we'll keep pushing on."

Jamie's good leg was beginning to get tired and Daryl could feel her leaning more heavily on him, so he turned toward the car and helped her to sit up on the hood, her leg limp along the still warm metal. As soon as the warmth came to her attention, she sighed happily and kicked off her boots, getting a look from Daryl at the fact that she had, once again, left her laces untied. Staring right back, she got a huff of near annoyance from him before he gave up and turned to listen to the discussion between everyone else.

"Hey, Carl, come here," Jamie called, motioning the boy over. He looked up to Lori for permission, who seemed reluctant, before she nudged him forward and followed a couple of paces behind. Daryl seemed to understand her thoughts and helped the boy up onto the hood as well, felling the heat from the engine warm him up.

"Mom, it's warm," he said with a smile as he looked to Lori, who smiled back. Jamie directed Carl to place his hands on the metal to warm his fingers, tightening Rick's jacket around him. Lori watched over the other woman's actions, wanting to feel the anger for her that she once had, but she just couldn't bring herself to hate her. She didn't have the energy left in her to muster up the jealousy, not after all that she had seen Jamie go through for Daryl, not after she had watched her with Rick and Carl. She was a part of their family, they all were. She never wanted to replace Lori and the realization of that struck a chord in her.

"Come on, Lori, plenty of room," Jamie invited, drawing a smile from the other woman as she hopped up next to Carl, sandwiching him between the two woman. Lori's eyes continued to watch Jamie, but she was keeping her gaze on Daryl as he spoke with the others, keeping his body angled so that he could always see Jamie whenever he was distracted.

"Thank you, Jamie," Lori said quietly, getting an almost started look from the younger woman before she returned the faint smile and reached around Carl to clasp her shoulder in a soft grip, her fingers cold through Lori's sweater sleeve. Daryl glanced back at them from the corner of his eye before he let out an inaudible sigh of relief, knowing that the tense relationship between those two was dealt with and no longer interfering with their survival.

"We've all be through hell but at least we found each other. I wasn't so sure but we  _did_. Together. We keep it that way," Rick was saying, glancing over to where Jamie and Lori were crowded around Carl, Jamie's pale fingers wrapped around Lori's arm comfortingly. "We'll find shelter somewhere, there's gotta be a place."

Jamie curled her toes to try and get the tops pressed against the warm metal as she looked over to Hershel. "You know this area better than any of us, do you recognize where we are?" Hershel sighed softly, a weak sound, and shook his head. "Well, we'll look for something: a house, a barn, even a damn shack until we have our bearings."

"Look around, Jamie," Glenn started, clutching at his gun like a lifeline. "There are walkers  _everywhere_. They're…migrating, or something-"

Rick interrupted, the gun that Shane had snatched from Jamie's belt still in his hand, "There's gotta be a place. Not just somewhere where we hole-up, but we fortify." He took a moment to look over to Lori and Carl, seeing that Carl wasn't shivering as badly, but with Jamie and Lori slouched on either side of him kept him enclosed in heat and safe from any wind. "Hunker down. Pull ourselves together, build a life for each other."

Jamie looked up as he said this with Daryl turning his attention to her from the corner of his eye. He knew that she had been thinking on it, the fact that they were engaged and living in an apocalypse, but she didn't want that to slow her down. She wanted to keep to whatever semblance of a normal life that she could, even if that just meant a marriage.

"I know it's out there, we just have to find it."

"Even if we do find a place, and it's safe, we can never be sure. For how long?" Maggie asked, posing the question that was in the back of all of their minds'. "What about the farm, we fooled ourselves into thinking that was safe."

"A fool thinks himself to be wise, but a wise man knows himself to be a fool," Jamie quoted, looking over to Maggie. The brunette looked started to have been quoted Shakespeare at, but it was Daryl that Jamie glared at when he gave her 'the look'. The 'you're showing off your diploma again' look.

"What's that?" Carl asked as he frowned in confusion, looking up to the blonde that was blocking the wind from getting to him.

"It's William Shakespeare, you know, like Romeo and Juliet? I just mean to say that at least we know what we did wrong and we won't make the same mistake. Being wise enough to say you're a fool about something you did," she explained, watching the youthful stare of curiosity in his eyes. He nodded along, but she could still tell that he wasn't quite sure what she had meant by the quote. Lori watched as Jamie smiled in amusement before turning her eyes to where Rick began speaking again, as though they hadn't veered off topic.

"We'll set up camp tonight, over there," he motioned to a set of ruins as he was speaking, the brick walls of what used to be a house still in fairly good condition and definitely enough to block out the wind and keep in the heat of a fire. The lack of a roof made it both easier and miserably sad. "We'll get back on the road at the break of day," he finished, moving toward the ruins to check them out. Jamie fell back against the hood of the car, wanting to absorb the warmth and carry it with her.

"What if walkers come, or another group like Randal's?" Beth asked with her fear written clear on her face. Jamie lifted her head to look, before letting out another sigh and letting her head fall back down, groaning when it connected slightly too roughly with the metal. Carl snickered behind Rick's sleeve beside her, getting a mock look of outrage from Jamie that had him laughing harder and shuffling closer to Lori as his mother smiled in relief that he was laughing again.

"What about Randal?" Glenn asked, finally lowering his gun to only one hand. "Daryl came back and said that you guys checked the body again and found no bite marks. How is it possible that he turned but wasn't bitten?"

Frowning at the knowledge that things were about to get ugly, Jamie pulled herself back into a sitting position and slid down the hood to begin lacing her boots back on, looking up to meet Daryl's eyes for a moment. They already knew the information that Rick had been withholding, and there was no way that the group would take well to the new piece of in-tell from Jenner.

"What the hell happened?" Lori finally asked, crossing her arms in a way of both keeping warm and wanting to show that she was serious about the topic and was not going to give up.

Standing to her full height, although she was slightly off center because of the need to lean on one leg, Jamie spoke to the group, "We know that Shane was the one to kill Randal. We got caught by a couple of walkers and Shane snuck up behind us. Rick and Daryl went after him and we all got separated."

"I tried to find Jamie, when I couldn't I went back to the house to see if she had made it back there," Daryl filled in, looking over to her since she hadn't known about that piece of information either. "It was when I was leaving again that we saw the herd outside."

"I found Rick with Shane after it went dark," Jamie continued, looking over to Rick. "Shane had a gun to him that he had taken from me when he caught me from behind. I tried to sneak up behind them, and I was able to turn his gun away from Rick, but he tried to shoot me. All of the crap that he pulled was just to get us into the forest; to get Rick into the forest."

"What?" Lori asked, her eyes widening as she too stood from the car hood.

Jamie looked over to Rick and could see that he was glancing between Lori and Carl. They had both been close to Shane, Lori more so than she should have been, but for them to know that Shane was killed by his hand could damage them both and their relationship with Rick. For Rick to lose the trust that his son had in him would turn him cold, turn him into the man that had taken Shane's life.

"We're all infected," Rick said quietly, but it was still enough for the group to hear him perfectly. All eyes turned to him, except for Jamie and Daryl who looked to the ground and away from the reactions of the others. With how Daryl had taken the news in the woods, Jamie wasn't sure what would happen with everyone else. Although he was known for his temper, Daryl could also take some pretty shitty news when he needed to and not react in a completely terrible manner. "At the CDC, Jenner told me. Whatever it is, we all carry it."

"It happens when you die," Jamie said quietly. "Explains how Randal turned because of a broken neck and no bite."

Lori's attention snapped over to her. "You knew about this?"

Jamie met her hard stare with her own, her eyes appearing closer to brown than hazel, "Rick told me and Daryl when we found Randal's body again. What can we do, if there's no cure? All this time we've been living, surviving, and now things are gunna change? No, we'll still continue on and try to survive for as long as we can. Unless we die or get bitten, nothing will happen."

Carol stepped in front of Jamie, ignoring her as she addressed Rick. "Why didn't you ever say anything about this before?"

"Jamie's right," Rick said, shaking his head. "Would it have made a difference?"

"When I found out about the walkers in the barn I told for the good of the group," Glenn said in a rush, grabbing hold of his gun in both hands once more, needing the comfort that it could give. "Why didn't you tell us, if this whole time you knew the truth?"

Jamie huffed before she snatched the shotgun from Hershel and aimed it at Glenn, watching as everyone backed away from it, Maggie raising her gun on Jamie in return. Lori pulled Carl away from her, but Daryl remained where he stood knowing that she wasn't going to shoot anyone. "Now that you know, do you want to die?" she asked, holding his dark eyes in a demanding stare. "If Jenner had told us all, if Rick had told us sooner, would it have made you give up and want to die? The walkers in the barn were a threat when we didn't know about them; this is a threat  _because_  we know about it."

Maggie began to lower her gun, realizing that Jamie had no intention of shooting. She hadn't even loaded it before she raised it on Glenn.

"Are you going to give up?" she demanded and watched as Glenn shook his head. Lowering the gun, she held it out for Hershel to take. "If I had the choice, I wouldn't want to know because it will always be there in the back of my mind. What if it takes hold without me dying? What if something changes? Before, the only thing we had to worry about was getting bitten and staying alive. Now, we will always have this to haunt us."

"This is why I thought it best if people didn't know," Rick finished, his eyes intently watching the emotions on Jamie's face.

Rick stepped away from the group first, Daryl soon placing an assuring hand on Jamie's shoulder before he notched an arrow and headed toward the trees, moving to search for good firewood while removing any walkers that he spotted in the process. Lori followed after Rick, while Jamie watched them carefully. Silence reined over the rest of the cracking family, people shifting unsure eyes between each other and feeling unease about themselves. Rick stopped at a stone dam, man-made, and watched a small waterfall of water that had begun to pour off the edge of the rocks.

Lori stepped up behind him as she tucked her gun into the back of her jeans, her hands free to wrap around him securely. "I'm sure you had your reasons," she finally began, pressing her cheek against his shoulder as she attempted to take in the information. "Is there anything more-"

"Lori," he interrupted, feeling her still as she lifted her head from his shoulder to hear what he had to say.

"I killed Shane."

Turning sharply, Rick and Lori both stared at Jamie with wide eyes. Rick shook his head at her, though she could not see with her head bowed and her eyes to the ground. She was still favouring one leg and her hands were in the pockets of her jeans to keep them warm, her damp hair twisted and pulled over one shoulder. She appeared afraid and weak, not what they were used to, and her eyes would not leave the ground. Rick wanted to protest, wanted to scold her for saying anything, but he knew what she was doing.

"I know that you hate things being kept from you, Lori, so I wanted to tell you before you found out some other way. He was trying to kill Rick, so I killed him. Rick tried to talk him down, and I probably should have given him a better chance, but I couldn't do it. I took the shot that I had before he could kill me. I know that even after everything you and Shane were close, so I'm sorry that it had to end this way."

"You," Lori said, pointing at Jamie with a shaking hand. Jamie raised her eyes to the other woman, full of remorse and grief. "You stay away from me and my son."

"I wanted it over, Lori," Rick said from at her side, causing her to back away from him as well in shock. "He accused me of stealing you and Carl from him, like  _I_  was in the way of everything. Whether it was me or Jamie, Shane wouldn't have come back with us that night. Not after everything that he did, to me and you, Jamie and everyone else. Shane wasn't the same man that we knew, and he was too much of a threat. He turned and that's how I knew; I knew that Jenner was right."

Jamie went to speak, but Rick continued before she could.

"Carl put him down."

Lori leaned her hands on her knees, appearing as though she was ready to be sick. Jamie wanted to help her, didn't want her to hate her, but there was no chance that Lori was going to forgive her for anything, not after the lie that she believed. Rick reached for her, but she swatted his hand away and turned her glare on Jamie, accusing them both with the hate in her eyes. She moved away from the both of them, unable to face either at the time.

Jamie limped over to Rick and smacked him on the arm, getting a started look from the man as he flinched back, getting a heated stare from Jamie that proved of her annoyance. "You weren't supposed to say anything.  _I_ was going to take full blame!" she hissed.

"Why?" Rick demanded back, keeping his voice low as he lashed out and took a sharp hold of her arms, wanting to shake her but not wanting to hurt her. "Why would you do that? She was just beginning to trust you!"

"Because you are a family, Rick," she snapped, shaking off his hold and pushing at his chest. "You may not want to lie to her but you can't lose her. She'll get over his death and even Carl's part in it. I would rather she blame me, because at least this way you can keep you family intact. Without you, Carl won't have a true family anymore!"

"At the expense of any improvement between the two of you."

Jamie shook her head and moved to sit on the side of the roadway, the gravel biting into her legs but still bearable. "Carl needs his father, Rick. And Lori needs you,  _we all_  need you. If Lori's trust in you breaks, it'll strain the whole group. So please, just go along with this. Winter's coming, we have nowhere to go and the last thing we need it further conflict among us."

Sighing heavily, Rick fell to sit as her side, leaning toward her to look into her hazel eyes. They were clear, reflecting her thoughts as she stared right back at him. "Thank you," he managed after a minute, getting a huff of a laugh and a smile from the woman, her hand reaching out to draw him into a loose embrace.

"You'll get through this, Rick. We all will."

As dark fell over them, Daryl had built up a strong fire in the center of the building ruins, the group crowding around the flames to try and keep warm. Maggie and Glenn stayed close together, Beth leaning heavily on Hershel for comfort and warmth. A broken family they were, all of them. Daryl looked out in the darkness, knowing that Jamie was safe with Rick but still eager for her to return. He wasn't sure what had happened, but when Lori had returned without them he knew that she had gone and done something stupid again.

"We're not safe with him," Carol whispered to him as she looked out in the darkness, "keeping something like that from us. You don't need him, he's just gunna pull you down." She kept her voice low so as not to draw attention from the others, but Daryl looked over her with a blank expression. Jamie was with Rick at that very moment, and he trusted him to keep her safe, but here Carol was trying to turn his thoughts against Rick.

"Nah," he settled on saying, snapping some larger sticks in half to add them to the fire. "Rick's done alright by me."

"You're his henchman," Carol accused, bringing pause to Daryl for a second time as he looked up to her. "And I'm a burden. You deserve better."

Daryl remembered a time when Jamie had said that about Merle, but she had never said anything ill of Rick and he trusted her opinion. "What do you want?" he asked in return as her eyes fell to the flames.

"A man of honour." It came out sounding more like a question than a statement and it irked Daryl somewhere deep. This woman was accusing Rick and she didn't even know of what or why. She was simply looking for someone to blame after the events that had removed them from the farm they so desperately trusted.

"Rick has honour," he growled out, his voice rising slightly.

Their not-so-quiet conversation brought doubt to the others, Maggie turning to Glenn with the thought of leaving the group. Hershel diffused the situation before it even became one, continuing to hold Beth close in the cold night. Movement in the woods next to their makeshift camp drew everyone's attention away from the conversation. Jamie and Rick made their way in from the other side, seeing everyone getting to their feet as Daryl pulled his crossbow from off his shoulder in preparation for anything, whether it is food or a walker.

Jamie had her hands tucked deep in her pockets against the cold, her hair finally dried after the hours of sitting in the chilled air. Her weight was still leant more heavily on her good leg, and Rick stood close in case she ever needed assistance. There was a tense air between them, but Rick held a protectiveness toward her that was visible in their proximity.

"It's not safe here; we should leave. What are we waiting for?"

"Which way?" Glenn asked as he looked around for any sign of movement within the light of the fire, but they could only see so much.

Jamie looked around at the group, seeing the very nerves that danced beneath their skin in their heightened sense of fear. The dark brought the same fear to her as everyone else but knowing that she wasn't alone allowed her the peace of mind while night took over. "The last thing we need if for everyone to be running off in the dark," Rick said before anyone could move from the enclosure of stone ruins. "We don't have the vehicles, and no one's travelling on foot."

"Don't panic," Hershel stated not a moment later.

"I'm not," Carol said as she continued to look around like a startled mouse. "I'm not sitting here and just waiting for another herd to blow through."

"Did you ever use to watch horror movies?" Jamie asked suddenly, drawing Carol's confused eyes to her. "Get scared after watching one and suddenly everything makes you jump? Even the things that you've heard or seen day after day? A creaky floor board or a flickering light?" Daryl almost wanted to laugh as he thought back to how Jamie used to react whenever they watched a horror movie. "That's what this is. We've seen what's out there, we've witnessed what scares us most and now we feel like every twig snap, ever whisper of wind is going to turn into a herd of walkers."

Carol turned to her desperately. "But we don't know that it isn't! We need to move,  _now_."

"No one is going anywhere," Rick ordered out, halting Carol before she could take a step.

"Do something-"

"I am doing something!" Rick interrupted, turning to face Carol with an almost aggressive approach. Jamie reached for his arm and tugged him back slightly and tried to show him that he was taking it too far. "I'm keeping this group together.  _Alive._ " He allowed Jamie to guide him back, but didn't take his eyes off of the other woman. "I've been doing that all along, no matter what. I didn't ask for this!"

"Okay, come on," Jamie whispered softly, tugging on his arm as she glanced over to where Daryl was keeping out of the conversation, but still mindful of what was going on. He nodded to her, as though giving her permission, and she nodded back. Rick pulled his arm from her hold and walked in a loose circle, trying to calm himself down as she remained where she was, knowing that he wasn't finished.

"Maybe you people are better off without me. Go ahead." Motioning back behind him, toward the road, Rick didn't wait for anyone to react before he continued, "I say that there's a place for us, but maybe it's just another pipe dream. Maybe I'm fooling myself again. Why don't you go and find out yourself, send me a post card."

Of course he wasn't finished.

"Go on, there's the door. Let's see how far you get." He paused a moment and looked around at everyone, waiting to see if there was going to be any reactions from the group. "No takers? Fine. But let's get one thing straight. If you're staying, this isn't a democracy anymore."

Jamie watched a moment as he turned and fled from the group, but she soon limped after him carefully, knowing that he was heading for the same clustering of trees near the water that they had sat at before returning to the ruins. "Nice speech," she said after a long silence between them, seeing through the moonlight as Rick looked over to her with a blank stare that bordered on accusing. "Stop that."

"I was going to tell them about Shane," he began instead, turning his eyes to where they could both see the lights of the fire dancing along the stone. "About how I killed him and how I did it for the good of the group. To protect them."

"I suppose it's better that they don't know," she said softly, reaching forward to cup his chin in her hand and guide him to look at her. "I don't care if they hate me, or however they may feel. I will leave them to believe that I killed Shane, and you won't say a thing. They need someone they can trust to lead them, and believing that, no matter the circumstances, you killed your best friend may affect their feelings."

He was silent as he thought over her words, the light of the moon bringing deep shadows to his face. "And what about you?"

"You forget," she began with a sad smile, "I was there. I know how you felt about what you did; I know that you did not do so without great remorse."

Rick turned his eyes to her for a moment, looking over her face and into her darkened eyes. There was not much light to allow him to properly see her, but there was a set of determination on her face that he knew he could not combat. Leaning forward in the same moment that her arms came around him, Rick allowed himself the comfort of another once more, unable to break away from the pain of Lori's rejection and the group's doubts in him. Jamie was softly and warm against him, feminine and welcoming. She knew of the blood on his hands and she didn't push him away.

His hands fisted in her shirt as he pressed his face into her shoulder.

"Everything'll be alright," she assured gently, her voice a whisper in his ear and her breath a ghost on his skin.


	2. Our Secret Stays with the Night

Winter was not hesitating with its arrival this year and everyone in the group could feel the very chill eating into their bones. The cars provided warmth only when inside, but they couldn't remain tucked within the cramped vehicles for long. Covered head to toe in jackets, scarves, thick pants, socks and boots the group braved the cold through the nights and through the trips in search of somewhere to hunker down until they could find somewhere more permanent. Jamie had resumed her spot behind Daryl on his bike, bundled in warmth as she inhaled his scent as the wind blew it back to her, but even that wouldn't last much longer once the snow began to fall.

"We'll stay here for the night," Rick declared after they had found a sturdy home that looked as though it had already been cleared out. That meant no supplies, but the walkers had also been killed already. They were already crowded in the living room, cleared out of everything that could have been useful to them.

"I'll go start getting the blankets from the trucks," Jamie declared, pushing away from the group to head back outside. Daryl followed after her without a word, nodding to Rick as he passed. T-Dog trailed behind them after a moment, knowing that it would be better than sitting around in the room filled with tension. It had been that way since Rick presented the ultimatum to the group.

There had almost become two sides within the group, the side in which Rick had his supporters and those that had been influenced by Carol's outburst that first night off of the farm. Of course, Daryl stuck with Rick and Jamie had no issues with following his lead. T-Dog mostly wished to stay out of the debate, but at the same time would provide for Rick whatever he asked as any follower should. Hershel's faith in the disgruntled father was not wavering, but he had trouble conveying the same to his daughters. Beth was not nearly as difficult as Maggie, however.

She and Glenn had shown clear dislike to Rick's change in attitude and character, but neither of them spoke outright on the matter. It was incredibly clear that Maggie bordered on needing a strong figure to lead, and wanting to show that she was strong with her own independence. Her dependence on Glenn, however, trumped her attempts and she still ended up looking reluctantly to Rick for guidance when Glenn could not provide. Lori stood with her cold shoulder on Rick and those that willingly followed his plans, as it had been expected all along.

This, of course, left Carl in the middle of feuding parents and no-one capable of being the mediator without biased opinion. Jamie had remained wise and kept her distance from the boy, knowing better than to tempt the wrath of a mother that had given and was preparing to give again.

"We can't keep doing this," T-Dog said as he hauled out three rolled up and tied sleeping bags from the back of the van. "Moving around every other day. Just goin' in circles!"

"He's covering ground," Daryl defended. "Not like a place to make home's just gunna jump out in front of ya," he grumbled back as he hefted his bag and Jamie's over his shoulder, their comforters rolled up tightly on top of each bag and tied down securely.

"Besides," Jamie interrupted easily, her arms loaded with folded fabric of all colours and materials, "You've seen everything that he's seen. Have any of the places we've been to even looked near secure enough for all of us to stay comfortably and safely?"

Letting out a sigh, T-Dog's breath was a ghost of white fog before his lips. "Yea, I get it. But Winter's not passing any faster and Lori's not getting any smaller."

"Oh, we've noticed," Jamie intoned sarcastically, grunting when Daryl smacked her on the back of the head gently in warning. "Ow," she mumbled, glancing over at him before shaking her head and moving back for the house. The guys soon followed after her, the cold chill biting their skin while the freezing ground crunched beneath their feet. Jamie ducked her chin into the collar of her jacket in the hopes that it would fight away the cold creeping down her neck, her hair falling around her face.

Handing off her blankets to Hershel and Beth, Jamie soon took her pack from Daryl and moved to where Rick had told her there was a small room she and Daryl could share. It appeared to be an old office, there was an overturned desk that was on its side, allowing its length to block the cracked window. Smiling when she spotted a closet, Jamie slid it open and nodded her approval. "It's gunna be tight," Daryl commented as he looked over her shoulder.

"But secure and much warmer," she reminded, turning around to wrap her arms around his waist for a moment. "I don't mind the contact."

Knowing that they couldn't abandon the others to their own devices just yet, Daryl laid a quick kiss against her lips before they both turned and left their room for the night, their packs sitting next to the closet.

"Nobody's gunna be staying here, it's too close to the front of the house. If anything happens we need to make a quick run out the back," Rick was saying as he looked around the front room of the home, the windows in the worst condition and visible from the road. "We'll move the trucks around back where they won't be seen."

"What about when the snow comes?" Lori asked as she leaned against the far wall, her arm over Carl's shoulders protectively.

"We can't do much. Just try and stay off the main roads," Jamie answered, shivering faintly and tugging her coat more securely around her. "I'm more concerned about the cold," she added on after a moment, glancing over to Rick who was looking out the window with his face drawn into a thoughtful frown. Jamie nearly jumped when she suddenly felt a warm hand slip into the back pocket of her jeans, simply resting there. Looking over her shoulder with a raised eyebrow, Daryl met her stare without any reaction.

"Jamie and Daryl, you two go out and start moving the trucks to the back. Make sure the tarps over the backs are secure," he ordered before watching as the two easily moved off to do as told. Jamie didn't mind being told what to do and Daryl had become accustomed to it with Rick. Had it been Shane that was still ordering him around she was sure that he would be nowhere near as compliant.

Daryl watched as Jamie slid into the seat of the newer truck that they had picked up, the keys jingling in her hand as she stuck them into the lock. He moved over to the van that they had kept, the back loaded with any and all supplies that they could get their hands on throughout the colder season. Jamie was already turning the large vehicle around the corner by the time Daryl had closed his driver's door, leaving him with that sharp stab of unease that came every time Jamie initially left his sight.

There were few in the group that he would entrust her safety with, Rick being one of those few. He had let her wander away to spend time with the cop alone, knowing that having someone feminine and kind could more than likely help him with recovering from the icy treatment that Lori had been giving him. It was getting easier, as she warmed to the thought of having her husband back once more, but at the same time she continued to push Jamie further and further away.

They all seemed to.

Jamie was beginning to realize what Daryl had felt when he was with Merle at the campsite, or even when she was there but the group still didn't want him around. Her way of taking things, however, meant that she acted as though nothing was different, instead spending more time with those that welcomed her presence. Maggie and Glenn would welcome her into their little circle, but Beth didn't seem as okay with her being around.

It hadn't taken more than two days for the entire group to know that she had been the one to kill Shane. Only Jamie and Rick knew the truth, that she had watched as Rick stabbed his bed friend. She swore to take that to the grave, however, and Rick felt choked by her will to help him. She didn't seem to realize how selfless she was being; taking the hate that Lori would otherwise have been sending in his direction.

Daryl could openly admit that she had far more patience than he did. Even with Lori, when she knew that she would have to converse to help the woman in some way and only received scathing remarks and deadly glares for her efforts, she didn't flinch or glare back, didn't yell or try to defend herself. She had become submissively silent and it as mildly concerning to him because it was so unlike her.

In every other way, thankfully, she didn't appear to have changed. She didn't act differently toward him, she was still as sarcastic as ever when she felt like it and didn't seem to understand any kind of need for change toward her personal reactions and feelings.

Not a day passed that he didn't notice her withdrawn nature, however.

Since they had met one another in high-school it was apparent that she liked to be surrounded by other people, even if she immensely enjoyed her time alone with one other person or herself as well. To have those she had come to care for and consider her family turn their backs on her was difficult, even if she refused to outwardly show it.

More than the cold of oncoming winter was hurting her, her emotions were tearing her apart.

When they had finished their task, they resumed unloading their other needed belongings from the trucks, taking them inside to their respected owners. Daryl made sure to grab Lori's and Carl's, knowing that Lori would react to Jamie doing so and wanted to avoid the confrontation for Jamie's emotional sake. It didn't go unnoticed by Jamie when he did this, but neither spoke a word on the matter and simply continued on their way inside.

Everyone began to move off to separate rooms of the house, remaining clear of the room that Jamie and Daryl had already claimed to be theirs for the night, leaving everyone in their small little clusters. However, there was some peace that came with it, Jamie had to admit. She never felt more out of place and secluded as she did when she was with the rest of the group. Sitting with Daryl in their little space allowed her to feel that wanted sensation once more.

"They'll get over it, Angel," Daryl assured softly as he stroked his hand along her hair gently. "Still fresh."

"Yea, and seeing me every day is salt in the wound," she muttered, leaning her head on his shoulder as she sighed pleasantly from the feel of his fingers through her hair. They were sitting on the floor of the small closet, the door open with their legs hanging out from the small space. Their blankets were already laid out on the floor, waiting for them to go to sleep for the night. Daryl knew, though, that she wasn't going to be getting much sleep that night, as it was clear she had been having nightmares because of what she had told him happened the night of Shane's death, a strange one from what he had been told. Rick and Jamie each held different versions, as could be expected from two perspectives, but he also thought that it sounded too much like they had rehearsed it.

"Stop it," he warned. Actually glaring at her. "Now, I don't know what it was that actually happened that night, but something ain't right."

"Daryl-"

"No," he interrupted quickly, his eyes narrowing at her in clear irritation. Looking to him with widened eyes, Jamie was clearly left with a deep sense of surprise at Daryl's reaction to her obvious attempt at avoidance. Not wanting to give him any reason not to trust her, or for him to want to put any semblance of space between them, she sighed softly and reached to loop her arm around his as she closed her eyes tiredly.

"I'm sorry," she whispered softly at last, knowing that above all else Daryl hated when things were kept in the dark between them. They had always used the other as their rock wall, leaning on them when they felt that anything else would crumble away should they try to seek support. She had spent many nights complaining to him, just venting, and she had made sure that she was there in return when life with his brother got too overbearing.

Pulling her gently back until they were tucked into the small space of the closet, their place for the night that was tight and safe, Daryl wrapped her in his arms while she was facing the wall, knowing that she hated sleeping close to the door even if she didn't want to openly speak about it or admit it, even to him.

She seemed to want to appear strong to him, much like how Carl had always wanted to appear strong in the eyes of his father.

"It's alright to be afraid, Angel," he whispered against her hair, feeling her entire body relax by those simple words, reminding him of a stretched elastic that broke after being pulled to tight. Leaning heavily against him, it almost felt as if she had fallen asleep or unconscious. Kicking his shoes off and pushing them off their sleeping blankets, Daryl then carefully pulled hers off, her legs pulling up as soon as they were off to press her feet against his shins, the chill of her feet reaching him through their clothes even and making him smile at the memories that it brought forth.

He only pulled away enough to turn off their small light near the door, pulling it closed and tucking an old towel at the bottom of the door to keep their heat sealed in completely. Returning to Jamie, he pulled the blankets off them as he wrapped himself around her carefully, remaining still as she pulled herself up close to him for more warmth and contact.

"I'm terrified," she admitted in the silence and darkness, feeling Daryl's arms tighten around her in response but remaining silent.

That was how Rick found them the next morning, curled up in the dark, small space within the closet. Daryl woke first, the light penetrating his eyelids and startling him into consciousness. Rick simply nodding his head to the other man, getting one in return before he departed, leaving the door open the faintest crack. Daryl turned to lay beside Jamie once more, her breathing even to tell him that she was sleeping peacefully. He had come to recognize the slightest hitches in her throat whenever she was having a nightmare and oftentimes woke her before it got too far, but sometimes he didn't wake until her entire body jolted in shock as she woke up, sweating and trembling.

"Wake up, Angel," he whispered against her hair, feeling her stir against him but her eyes remain closed a moment longer. He knew that she was awake, but did not truly wish to get up just yet. She wasn't shivering, so he knew she was warm, and her face was peaceful and lacked the haunted look she had acquired. "Gotta get moving."

Opening her eyes, Jamie just stared ahead at the wall for a moment before exhaled through her nose. Turning her head to look into the baby-blue of Daryl's eyes, she gave the faintest smile as he leaned down to press a lingering kiss to her cheek. "I was dreaming of one of your hunting trips…before." Her voice was hoarse from sleep, sounding like she hadn't spoken in days. He felt a brief flash of concern that she was getting sick, but he knew that she sounded like that most mornings.

Daryl couldn't help the snort of amusement, knowing exactly what trip she must have been dreaming about. They would always either sleep in his truck or the old cabin his father never used anymore, though neither of them really liked to spend any extended amount of time in that cabin and would usually sleep in the bed of his truck quite happily.

"I miss that truck," he mumbled after a moment, getting an elbow in the gut for his teasing that simply left him with a grin as he caught her arm and lifted her hand up to kiss her wrist, then the back and front of her palm. "Come on, let's get some food before Lori and hey baby eat everything."

"You're evil," she said with laughter in her tone, shuffling out from under the blankets quite reluctantly. Tugging on her coat as soon as she was free of the blankets, Daryl was already slipping on his boots and tossing hers to her one at a time.

In less than ten minutes their small room was packed up in their bags once more and they were carrying them out to the truck as Rick continued to rouse the rest of the family from their sleep. Carol was in the kitchen using a fire in the sink to cook the can of beans that made up their breakfast, the window in front of her smashed open and allowing the smoke out.

"Here you two go," she said in a soft tone as she held out two plastic plates to them, already scratched and breaking from being used so many times. Nodding their thanks, Jamie caught the sad look in Carol's eyes as she took her food but looked away and refused to dwell on it. Daryl lingered a moment longer, watching the look on the older woman's face. She looked like someone living in regret, and he found himself wondering if she was beginning to realize that Jamie wasn't at fault.

One by one the others were entering the small kitchen and claiming their plates of food, looking less than pleased by knowing that it was all that they could do to survive. Jamie curled herself up at the bottom of the stairs, her eyes on the fire that was licking up above the lip of the sink, the lights dancing in the hazel of her eyes. When Lori and Carl came out to join everyone, she didn't even look in their direction, but Rick and Daryl both glanced at each woman briefly to make sure that the peace would be kept. Lori's increasing hormones often had her turning on Jamie, bitching the other woman out until she looked ready to kick to pregnant woman in the shin, but never letting herself do it.

"Where to now?" T-Dog asked as he leaned against the wall in tightly bundled clothes, eating his share.

"The town, we need to make sure we don't miss any possible supplies," Rick answered as he motioned with his head in the general direction of the town. "We'll break up into two groups and then meet back by noon. It's not a big town, so we'll get through it as fast as we can and hope we don't draw any attention to ourselves."

Rick noticed when Carl wandered over to where Jamie was sitting, Lori looking ready to call their son back over before he placed a hand on her arm, stopping her short from the surprise. They watched as Jamie spoke quietly with the boy for a second before giving him the other half of her beans, winking to him and making Carl smile as he sat down on the step above her and immediately began eating.

Lori winced as she placed a hand on her stomach. It was supposed to be her making such sacrifices for her son, but being pregnant she couldn't eat less than she should. Already she had the largest portion of food in comparison to the rest. Jamie, since she often gave away a quarter or half of her meal was eating the least out of the entire group and most of them didn't even notice.

It could be seen even through her clothes; she was losing too much weight and it could kill her if it persisted through the winter. Daryl could feel her ribs as they lay together at night, the thinning of her waist and more prominence in her hip bones. When they had first met up after the outbreak he had noticed how thin she had become, but it was mostly because of the extra muscle she had taken on and any unneeded fat being burned away. Now, she was deteriorating before his eyes and it broke his heart and enraged him that he couldn't stop it from happening.

The only reprieve that he had is the knowledge that she had slept through the night and her face was a little less pale, her eyes a little more lively and her smile a little more real.

Jamie, focused on ignoring the raw hunger in her stomach, didn't notice the careful looks that she was receiving from the two men. She seemed to actually be trying to avoid looking over to where Rick and Daryl were, especially when they were together. They had a tendency of ganging up on her when she disagreed with either of them, which resulted in her losing the battle.

"Are you sure you had enough?" Carl asked, holding the bowl toward her one last time, giving her the chance of taking it back.

"I'm not growing like you are, I don't burn nearly as much energy as your tiny body does," she teased, getting a mock scowl from him before nudging her with his leg. She snickered in reply before she looked over to Rick at last, meeting his eyes before he jerked his head in a beckoning action. "See ya squirt," she laughed, patting his leg as she lifted herself from the stairs to move across the room, making sure to give Lori plenty of room as she did so.

Daryl, however, was the one that led her out to where they had parked the trucks, leaving Rick to address the rest of their mismatched family.

"We're going to need to pack up your bike soon," she began when she spotted the tarp that Daryl had tossed over it the night before. "If the cold doesn't kill you then the ice will," she remarked, smirking. Daryl snorted at the audacity before he moved over to tug the tarp off, rolling it up lazily so that it could be chucked in the back of one of the trucks.

"Gotta eat more, Angel," Daryl said suddenly, hearing her sigh. She didn't even bother tensing up at the realization that he was aware of her weight-loss.

"He's just a kid, Daryl," she countered, catching him in her arms after he had dumped the tarp out of the way. "Needs it more than me."

Daryl pulled her closer, the smell of sweat and forest clinging to her whereas there was a stronger musk from him. They couldn't clean themselves as comfortably with the colder weather, so that often meant going a while without more than washing one's face. They didn't mind, however, because they had become accustomed to that smell. Jamie bundled herself closer to his warmth, his presence, and smiled as he fought the chill of the early morning away from her.

"I can't keep watching you wither away, Jamie."


	3. Breaking Ground

Jamie found herself sitting behind the wheel of one of the trucks, a rare occurrence lately as Daryl or Rick more often than not forced her to sit in the back and catch up on sleep. And, even more shockingly, she had Lori sitting beside her with Carl in the back, peeking through the two front seats to watch where they were going. So far, they had only really seen road and more road. They hadn't spoken a word to one another, which proved to be rather awkward for the most part. Carl would try and speak to Jamie, but when the woman went to answer she would receive an icy look from his mother and left her sighing and making up some excuse of why they shouldn't talk too much.

It was in that moment that she missed the radio most of all.

Carl wasn't stupid, either. He knew that something was happening between both his parents and each of them and Jamie. It seemed almost like Jamie had taken to becoming Rick's close friend after he had lost his best one so recently. Well, he had completely lost him recently, but in a way Shane had been gone for a long time. It was just too much for Carl to grasp. Jamie tried to act as if nothing had changed, but she couldn't do that very well when Lori deflected her at every turn.

"Where are we going?" Carl finally asked, looking between the two women. Lori moved to answer before she realized that she actually didn't know. Glancing at Jamie, she could see the woman was biting her cheek to stop herself from speaking because, of course, she knew exactly where they were going. Not only because she was the one driving, she was behind Daryl's truck anyway, but because it was her and Daryl that Rick confided in when it came to planning. He had taken a tight hold on the reigns, but he still preferred the opinions of others and it was not  _her_  that he came to anymore.

"South," Jamie finally answered, ignoring the scathing look that she received from Lori for doing so. "We're trying to find a place a little more permanent for the winter. It's not safe for your mom or baby brother or sister to be travelling around too much," she added on, glancing over her arm to where Carl was leaning his head against the side of Lori's seat, looking up at her.

"Why south?"

"We haven't looked there yet," she answered easily, following after Daryl and Rick when their truck made a right turn slowly before pulling to the side of the road. They were just outside of a small town, the houses beginning to get closer together as they made their way toward the center. "Stay here," she ordered, turning to Lori with a firm look that left the older woman feeling like a scolded child.

Popping the door open and quickly slipping out before much of the heat could escape she hustled up to where Rick and Daryl was both getting out, speaking carefully as the other vehicles pulled up behind where Jamie had parked. The men were speaking in hushed tones, leaning toward the other until their heads were nearly together.

"What's going on? Why stop here?" Jamie asked when she was close enough. Daryl and Rick moved just slightly, almost subconsciously, to allow her into their small meeting, creating a circle with the three of them.

"There haven't been many bodies or walkers on the way here, which usually means they're still in the town. Downside, this means that the town is more than likely covered in 'em, upside is that it means there's probably still quite a bit of stuff left here. People don't want to get in where they can be killed," Daryl answered for the both of them, looking over to where Jamie was nodding along, clutching her coat close to her body when the wind blew a rather harsh draft up the back of her coat that left her shaking for a moment.

"Are we going to chance it?" she asked quietly, frowning in concern. She may not be too close to the rest of the group at the moment but that didn't mean she wanted anyone marching to their death.

"We need the food," Rick answered in a resigned tone, scraping a hand across his face, which was overgrown with scruff. "And if these houses are in good enough condition it might last us for at least a little while," he continued, glancing over to some of the nearby houses. They weren't in the best condition, but they were better than other ones that they had found over the past month.

Biting at her lip in concern, Jamie nodded her head in understanding before she turned to look back where the others were still sitting in their warm vehicles. "Alright, I volunteer, I just know that you two will be going, then there's T-Dog and Glenn. Hershel?"

"He should stay with the girls; Carol should stay back, too. Maggie?"

"She always goes with Glenn."

"Good," Daryl said with finality. "Let's go give 'em the good news." Jamie almost snorted before Daryl roughly pulled her hood up to cover her head, getting an indignant cry from her that was muffled from the material over her face. The jacket was too large for her and the hood could come down to her chin, giving Daryl the temptation that he more often than not couldn't resist. Rick smiled faintly in amusement at their childishness as he removed the hood from her face while her hands were busy clawing at Daryl's.

"Come on, children, let's go."

Jamie smacked Daryl lightly, teasingly, on the back of the head as they made their way back to the cars. Seeing as Jamie had been the driver, she reluctantly went to Lori while Rick and Daryl walked over to the others to inform them of who would be leaving to run through the town while the others stayed behind.

"You two are going to stay here where's it's safe, maybe you can go and sit with the others in that truck if you want to but Rick doesn't want to risk your safety," she explained, seeing that both wanted to complain but she didn't give them much leeway and was soon closing the door, carrying her rifle, hand gun and knife. Rick tossed her another magazine for her gun, her pocket already filled with bullets for the rifle.

"Jamie and Daryl, Glenn and Maggie, T-Dog's with me," Rick was saying, motioning to the pairs. "Stay together, I don't want anyone getting separated and cornered. Expect there to be a lot of walkers, don't get careless. Make sure the area's completely clear before looking for any supplies." Those staying behind didn't seem pleased at the notion of staying behind, but it was too dangerous for certain people to rush in nearly blindly.

Leaving the trucks where they were, they made their way inside the town on foot, following Rick's silent direction for who goes which way. Jamie and Daryl headed south, their feet the only sounds around them as the frozen dirt beneath crunched with their weight. Thankful that her knee was in good enough condition that she was allowed out on these small scouting missions, Jamie glanced down at the black brace that they had found at a rundown pharmacy that allowed for her to move around even with the still tender scar along the side of her joint. Returning her eyes to the path before them, she made sure to keep a careful hold on the gun but without her finger on the trigger. It wasn't that she was worried about firing accidentally, but she didn't want to take the chance that she was startled into shooting without aiming. There was too great a risk that she would hit Daryl if there was anyone to get hit.

When they came to their first house the split up to go through the entire bottom floor, never leaving a single room unchecked, before they moved up the narrow staircase to the top floor where there was only one walker that had been locked in the bathroom and left to rot while the ones who had locked it in ran away to keep their lives. Jamie let Daryl kill this one as she made her way through the upstairs rooms to check for anything that could be of use to them, finding a sleeping bag that was still in good condition in one of the closets that appeared to have been a teenage girl's that was going through an 'emo' phase.

"Anything?" Daryl asked quietly as he learned into the room from where he had been checking the parent's bedroom.

"Good sleeping bag," she offered, holding up the rolled bundle that was a bold red colour. "Looks like they forgot in the rush of packing." Motioning around the room, everything that was important had been tugged out of its place and stuffed into whatever bags they took with them, leaving the room scattered with unnecessary clothes and other knick-knacks that weren't needed to survive. "Anything for you?"

"Nah, they were more careful to take everything with them from the medicine cabinet," Daryl muttered, glancing once more around the room before leaving to head toward the bathroom, hoping that by some odd luck they would have left some medical supplies in the cabinet. While he was doing so, Jamie made her way back downstairs to the ground floor and headed straight for the kitchen within.

She didn't even go near the fridge, knowing that anything left in there would more than likely be toxic by that point in time. Instead, she sought out the pantry, finding that it had been thoroughly raided already. Moving through every cupboard in the room, she came up with only a box of rat poison under the sink and a small can of tomato sauce that wouldn't even be enough for more than one meal portion when added to something like pasta. Sighing softly, she chucked the can onto the counter with a loud clatter and looked out the dirty window to the bleak world beyond.

"I take it nothing's here?" Daryl's voice asked quietly, gruffly, and Jamie didn't bother answered as she leaned wearily against the counter, bowing her head to the point that there was a strain in the back of her neck because of the action. Daryl walked up behind her surprisingly quietly, wrapping his arms around her waist and leaning down until his forehead was resting against her shoulder. "We'll get through it, Angel. You know we've survived worse," he soothed calmly, rocking her ever so slightly from side to side as he attempted to assuage her worries at the present moment. "Nothin' on us," he tacked on after a moment, making her give a huff of amusement at the reminder of their day after tumbling from the horse.

"Never even got to kill the fucker myself, went and got eaten by a walker, no doubt," she jested back, feeling the shift in Daryl's facial hair against her neck when he smiled at her choice in words.

"Cute," he teased, getting a gentle elbow from her but it was hardly a nudge.

Moving on to their next house, they were only able to get a handful of cans and a duffle bag that was tossed aside because of it was apparently too much to carry. Tossing what they had found into the bag, they moved on to the third house as the hours continued to trickle by and they would soon need to meet back up with the others of the group. Jamie paused in front of the forth house of the day, a smaller size than the others before glancing back to where Daryl seemed to be thinking the same thing as her.

"We could clear this one quickly and get back in time," she started, watching as he nodded his head in agreement. Daryl pulled his crossbow from his shoulder so that he was prepared, he gave Jamie the go-ahead. Knocking loudly on the front door, she waited a moment before throwing it open to show three walkers shuffling through the front hall, drawn to the knock on the door. Daryl immediately shot one with an arrow, dropping it to the floor while Jamie struck another from the side once it cleared the door. By the time the third noticed her, Daryl was right there and driving a knife through its eye.

"Hear any more?" she whispered, crouching near the corpses. Daryl only shook his head.

Together, they crept into the house, staying close as they moved through the living room and dining area that came off of a small kitchen, some bags of food already visible from where they were. Ignoring them for a moment, they turned their attention to the hall which led down to the bedrooms. Taking one each, they cleared only one more walker that had been too weak to rise from the ground in the parents' bedroom.

"That's all?" Jamie called from the doorway, watching as Daryl pulled an arrow from the head of a shrivelled up man, barely even a corpse anymore.

"All clear," Daryl confirmed, wiping the arrow on a rag that he used for specifically that purpose. Nodding her head, Jamie kept her knife out just to be safe as she made her way back toward the kitchen to be sure that she had truly seen food. It was when she spotted food on the counter that her stomach protested the loudest that it ever had over her lack of food. Keeping alert just to be sure that nothing was able to catch her by surprise, Jamie paused after passing the island at the sound of groaning wood.

"Daryl," she called quietly, glancing over her shoulder. There was no upstairs or another room that could have gone unchecked, so where was the sound coming from. Daryl rounded the corner and immediately tensed and frowned, seeing how uneasy she was in her posture alone.

"Jamie," he mumbled in a questioning tone, watching her eyes dart around as if she was looking for something to come out at her.

"Did you hear-?"

Before another word left her lips there was a resounding crack of wood as the floor beneath Jamie's feet broke down, drawing a startled scream from her throat as she was dropped below through the rotten floor. Daryl shouted her name as he darted forward, trying to get close to her while at the same time avoiding the weak flooring lest he fell under as well. Jamie had been heavy enough that the section she had been standing on broke through and took her down with it, but the remainder of the floor was surprisingly intact.

"Jamie!" Daryl shouted as he tried to lean over the gap in the floor, seeing only darkness. "Jamie!" A shuffling below forced him into silence with the hopes that she was moving and it wasn't a walker down below with her.

"Fuck," her faint voice called back up to him, sounding pained and tired.

"You got your flashlight? Anything down there with you?" Daryl demanded, wanting that one concern out of the way. A moment later he could see the distant light of her flashlight as she clicked it on to sweep over the room, the confirmation of her being alone giving Daryl's racing heart a moment to calm itself down. "Are you hurt?" he finally asked with the knowledge that she was safe down there.

"No, my ass broke my fall," she denied, rolling from her back to her hip. Groaning in pain, she coughed at the sawdust and drywall dust that fell down onto her, clouding her nose and leaving her feeling stuffed up. "What the hell was that?" she asked herself, lifting her small flashlight to look around and try and find where she had fallen. There was no sign of a basement door or cellar door, so she wasn't sure where she had fallen. There were plastic bins scattered throughout the room, all lidded and labeled in what she assumed was Spanish.

"Can you see stairs? A door?" Daryl called, still weary of falling down after her.

Sweeping the room again, she saw what she was sure must have been a door or stairway at some point but it had been cemented over. "Not anymore," she groaned, falling onto her back once more and blinking against the still showering dust. "I hurt," she moaned after a moment before pulling the gun from the back of her pants, the cold metal digging into her spine. She had just avoided landing directly on it, but her tailbone took the brunt of the hit and it was more painful than she was willing to admit.

"How far down are you?" he asked carefully, unable to get a good look from his angle and the fact that she only had the small light to penetrate the darkness. Jamie swept the light around the new hole in the ceiling of the room she had fallen into, noticing that it was a good ten feet, if not more.

"Too far," she answered after a moment. "I think I'm gunna need more help than just you, Babe," she added on, seeing the stricken look on Daryl's face from where he was leaning over the hole carefully. "Much as I know you don't want to, you're going to have to go and get the others-"

"I ain't just gunna leave you here alone, Angel. Yer trapped and-"

"Can't get out without the others' help," she finished, her voice firm. He may not be able to see her serious face, but he knew that voice and it made him cringe for just a moment. Sighing, he looked around the still deserted house. There were no more walkers and it was still relatively intact, at least concerning doors and windows. Apparently, the floors were another question entirely. "I'll be fine, just make sure everything's closed up. There aren't any more walkers, right?" she asked, trying to persuade him into seeing she was as safe as she was going to get, stuck in an abandoned cellar.

"Fine," he reluctantly agreed, a scowl forming on his face. "But I'm gunna check the house one more time."

"Alright," she consented. "Just promise me you'll be careful; god knows where else the floor might be weak."

Jamie pulled herself into a sitting position as she continued to cough against the dust falling down her throat. Brushing herself as best she could, she moved over to where one of the bins was pressed against the wall, the lid sealed with tape. Daryl left quickly to make it back in time to meet with the others and bring them back, leaving Jamie some time to get a hold of her bearings properly. Groaning at the new ache in her muscles as she pulled herself to her feet and carefully cracked her back, Jamie hissed at the discomfort for a moment before she flashed her light around the room a second time. She couldn't speak Spanish, as much as she wished she could, so there was no other way to figure out what was in the crates but to open them.

Pulling her knife from her hip, she sliced through the tape around the seam before prying the lid free with some care, sticking her flashlight between her teeth to be sure she could see while keeping both hands on the lid. Dropping the plastic to the side as soon as it was free, Jamie's shock followed through to her physicality and her shock caused her flashlight to drop the light in her teeth. Her hands fumbled to catch it, shining it back in the bin.

The entire thing was filled with packs of ammunition, from rifle bullets in long shells to the smaller rounds for her handheld. "Well," she mumbled in surprise, turning to the next bin and eagerly popping the flashlight back between her teeth and begin cutting at the second case.

The second bin found the guns themselves, the rifles laid down lengthwise with the handhelds taking up the other hand of the crate, angled widthwise.

Doing a small happy-dance on the spot, Jamie ignored the pain in her hip from the movement before she turned to the third, wondering if maybe she was going to get grenades in this one. Pulling it free, she left her body relax at the sight of cans upon cans of food, from beans and peas to beef and chicken. Soups and vegetables, all needed to be heated on a fire, but all edible from the preservation within the cans.

"Someone was paranoid, and I thank them for that," she mumbled to herself, glancing up when the door at the front of the house slammed closed. Pulling her gun free and raising it toward the hole, just in case, she waited to see the face that would look over the edge of the hole. When Daryl and Rick appeared, she sighed in relief and lowered the gun once more. Rick had a larger flashlight, probably from the trucks, and aimed it down at her.

"Are you alright?" he asked immediately, looking her over. She was leaning more prominently on one side, more than likely from landing on her hip, but there was no blood and she didn't seem to be in dire pain.

"Bit bruised, I'll live," she answered a moment later, "But you're about to love me. People who lived here were stocked up on guns and ammo—and canned food."

"How many?" Maggie called from somewhere behind them.

"I've only got three of the bins open, two with the guns and ammo and the third had food. I'll go through the others while you hopefully find a way to get me out of here?" she asked in a sickly sweet tone, causing both of the men to chuckle for a moment before turning to do just that. Jamie returned to her task from before, finding a bin of things like Jam and other jarred food. Not exactly what one would look for, but it was still food.

"Do you need anything down there, Angel?" Daryl called a couple minutes later, standing on the other side of the hole so that he was presently in the kitchen.

"I'm okay! More food!" she called back up, her words muffled from the small light in her teeth before she continued with the tape she was presently working on. This one had a cluster of clothes packed into vacuumed bags, making them as small as possible. Not knowing whether they would even fit any of them, she pushed that over with the others a little less enthusiastically.

"Jay, we're gunna need you to secure those bins so we can heft 'em up," Rick explained as he passed down some rope for each bin to be tied up in order to pull it through the hole. Jamie started with the food first, placing the lids back on before tying the rope one way before twisting it and going the opposite way, almost as if she was placing a bow on a present.

"This is a heavy one," she warned as she secured two ropes to the bin before letting the others lift it from the hole, leaving her to work on the next. Her hip was beginning to ache more as time went by, but she was sure it wouldn't swell. There was going to be a bruise, she knew that.

Repeating the process with each of the opened crates, they began moving them to the front of the house while she finished opening the rest, only finding sleeping bags and rolled up foam mattresses for camping. There weren't any more bins of food or ammunition, but she found, interestingly, a hunting set. Soon, it was her turn, and she was twisting the thicker rope beneath her arms and allowing herself to be lifted up. She was heavier than many of the bins, but she was able to help as soon as her hands could reach the broken floorboards.

Daryl was there as soon as her head skimmed the boards, helping to pull her up until she was once more in his arms. "You're okay," he breathed against her neck, feeling her smile against his as she returned the hug before pulling back to place an assuring kiss on his lips.

"Perfectly fine," she answered, pecking him one more time before he let her move back enough to get a quick hug from Rick. There was such happiness in his eyes, she knew that falling through that floor may have been the best thing in months, allowing them to find a small room of treasures in the apocalyptic world of theirs.

"Thank you," he breathed into her hair, holding her tightly for a moment more until she patted him on the back and drew away.

"These will take a while to carry back to the trucks; we can't chance bringing them here with the noise to draw out whatever walkers are left in the town," Maggie began as she was securing the lids back to all of the bins after the ropes had loosened just slightly from the lift up. "Unless everyone can carry one on their own."

"That one with all cans will need to have two people carrying it on either side," Rick said quickly, looking over to where Daryl was nodding his head in understanding. "Jamie, are you okay to carry one?"

"Yea," she waved off the concern while her hand rubbed her right hip. "Just a bruised hip, not even too sore yet. I'll be fine to carry one." Daryl still didn't look completely convinced with her assurances, but he also knew that there was no chance he was going to change her mind. So, instead, he moved over to one of the lighter bins, with the sleeping bags and other gear, and handed it to her before he continued to distribute them to the others.

When they stepped outside, each with their own bin, they looked around carefully. "Everyone keep a sharp eye out, the second you see a walker you give us a warning," Rick ordered, taking up the lead back to the trucks. He and Daryl were sharing the weight of one of the heaviest bins, while the others were carrying their own individually. The walk back was cold and seemed to take forever, but soon the trucks came into view, along with the rest of the group as they piled out of the cars to help.


	4. It's Safe Now

After eating a large dinner that night, they decided to stay curled up in the trucks instead of trying to hunker down in the town, most houses not secure enough to be considered safe. Jamie was with Daryl and, surprisingly, Rick. The two men had originally bunked together in the newer truck so they could go over the next course of action, Jamie sitting in to offer her own input even though she knew they didn't really need her. She mostly sat in the back and listened to them talk as the world went dark around them. All of the trucks had things stuck over the windows, on the inside, so they could block out the light from their flashlights and hope to keep as much of the warmth inside as they could.

With her stomach full and a mild painkiller, Jamie was soon beginning to slip away with the light of the day. Daryl took notice as soon as she began to doze, beginning to speak in a quieter tone that Rick mirrored, not even having to ask the other man about his actions. The map they had been following was half folded and sitting on the console between them, the smaller of their flashlights on so as not to create too much light.

"If we could clear out the walkers in this town, at least most of 'em, we could stay here," Rick was saying as he circled through the center of the town, highlighting the routes out. "Not many other survivors seem to have come through here because of the amount of walkers. We keep ourselves low and we could use them as a cover toward the edges of the town, keep them clear from the center."

"Hide in plain sight," Daryl nodded in agreement. "Take a stone house, better insulation and more than likely has a chimney. We'll have to be careful about fires, it'll draw in people and walkers."

"Sturdy doors and intact windows, might have seen a good one on the run in today so we'll head back and take a look tomorrow," he agreed, tapping on the map where he had spotted the house while on the supply run that afternoon. "Jamie, what do you-" Rick trailed off as he looked into the back of the truck, Daryl doing when same when the other man's attention was turned from one thing to another.

Jamie had wrapped herself up in all of her blankets in the back, her head having fallen to the side as she dozed off at some point, her head resting on a clump of sleeping bag that made up her pillow. She was sleeping so deeply that her mouth was hanging open, something that she normally never did, and there was the faintest sound of snores that they hadn't heard through their talking.

Having gotten so little sleep because of nightmares and the lack of food, Jamie's first proper meal that evening had basically put her into an Apocalypse version of a food-coma. It had been a long time since Daryl had seen her sleep that heavily, especially with the need to be aware of something that could attack at any moment. He couldn't stop the small smile at seeing her finally getting the rest that she had deserved for so long. She hadn't even been kept awake because of their talking and didn't realize when Rick had called her name.

"'Bout damn time," Daryl mumbled, hearing a huff of agreement from Rick as they turned back to the map in front of them.

"You have to realize that as much as I wish she didn't have to do it, I am eternally grateful for what she does for Carl," Rick said after a minute of them carefully marking up the map. "Thank you, as well."

"I ain't done shit," Daryl muttered a moment later, before glancing up to where Jamie was still snoring away. He was almost surprised that she wasn't drooling, but she had never done that so much even before the end of the world, he really wasn't exactly expecting it. "More of an Angel than she'll ever admit, lives up to her nickname more than I wish she would. Doesn't matter how she's treated, she'll do all she can to ignore it and treat people the way she would want to be treated."

Rick couldn't stop but to smile and looked back at Jamie again, seeing she had let her head roll forward just slightly and her nose was now pressed at an odd angle that appeared slightly uncomfortable, but she still didn't wake up and instead was snoring the slightest bit louder than she had been before. He and Daryl exchanged one more look before they both looked to where they should have been focusing.

When full dark settled around their small camp-site of trucks, Daryl and Rick tucked away their flashlights and curled themselves up in their seats, tucking into the blankets that they had with them while studying the area. Jamie had just barely woken in time to give them each another blanket before she rolled over and curled up facing the back seat, beginning to snore again. They each let out a chuckle of amusement before they tried to fall into sleep as well.

When morning came, Jamie had curled herself so fully beneath the blankets that she wasn't even visible to them anymore. Rick and Daryl slipped out of the truck as quietly as they could before anyone else came to try and wake them up, since they would wake her up in the process by more than likely knocking on the window. There was already a fire going in the small pit of rocks they had used the night before and Glenn was doing a quick area scout with Maggie to be sure they didn't get caught by surprise.

Lori was helping Carol make something quick for breakfast, trying to keep down the smoke from the fire by burning only dead branches that were as dry as possible. It was only maybe an hour past sunrise, everyone slowly emerging from their vehicles to join the quiet bustle of preparing for the day. It didn't go unnoticed by quite a few when Lori would continually glance to the back of the truck Jamie was still sleeping in, but she made no move to approach her to tell her anything that she was clearly thinking.

"Shouldn't we wake her up?" Hershel asked in a calm tone, noticing that she hadn't come out with the men.

"No," Daryl denied immediately. "Let her sleep a bit longer, I'll wake her up when breakfast's done."

"Was her hip bothering her last night?" the white haired man asked as he moved to sit on one of the fold out chairs around the fire, his rifle resting against his leg with the strap in his hand to make sure he had it at all times.

"Too busy snoring to tell us," Rick joked, getting a snort of a laugh from Daryl as he glanced back at the car one last time before he moved to check on Lori and Carl.

_Sunlight spilled through the top of the window, boards of wood covering all but the very top, where they removed one board every morning when the sun had risen once more. Jamie stood on her tip-toes on a kitchen chair, the piece of furniture groaning beneath her weight as she peeked out at the world below. Without her cellphone, which had been left in what had remained of her car, she had no way of trying to contact Daryl again. She didn't expect it to work anyway, the phone that the man who saved her had for emergencies wasn't working, so it was a long shot that her phone would get any service, or even Daryl's for that matter._

" _Careful," one of the women said from behind her, standing in the doorway. "Last thing we need is you falling and getting an even bigger bump on the head."_

" _I need to leave," Jamie said after a moment, turning away from the window and leaping down off the chair. "I am eternally grateful for what you did, since I would probably be dead without you guys, but that won't keep me here." The darker skinned woman, Juliana, didn't look happy to have someone telling her so blatantly that she wasn't going to be staying._

" _You'll die out there," she said in return, glaring at her before she realized that she was glaring at a woman that was taller than her, had more muscle and intimidating hazel eyes that were looking less than pleased. "Why do you want to leave so soon?"_

" _There are people that I need to find, and I'm not going to find them sitting on my ass in an apartment a day's drive away," she snapped back, tucking the chair she had been standing on back under the kitchen table. "Sorry to inconvenience you and all, but sitting here ain't gunna do shit in the long run anyway."_

" _We saved your ass and you're criticizing us?" Juliana asked in clear anger, marching toward Jamie with a scowl set across her exotic features. However, after dating someone that had Merle as a brother and a brutal drunkard as a father, Jamie was hardly scared of an offended woman by that point and met her head on, nearly literally as she pushed her face into Juliana's to the point it almost became a head-butt._

" _You're eventually gunna run out of food, or water, and I'm gunna have to bet that soon this building's power will go out. The world has gone to shit, do you really believe the hydro companies are going to care about you getting the power to keep you fridge going?" Juliana leaned back from the close proximity of the other woman's face, her hazel eyes glaring down at her with venom in her words. "I need to leave before Daryl gets the idea to hop town, if Merle hasn't made him do so already."_

" _Who?"_

" _My fiancé and his dick of an older brother," Jamie snapped, her anger mounting. Why was she explaining herself to someone who did not even matter? She didn't need her approval to leave._

_The argument between the two woman was cut short by a scream from Juliana's friend, the slamming of the door sounding a moment later and drawing the attention of both woman. Juliana had gone shockingly pale while Jamie's once angered expression and become taken over with panic and fear._

Jamie jolted awake, kicking the back of the passenger seat as she woke up. The only warmth she felt was from the blankets wrapped around her, the truck still cold from the night. Shivering slightly, her breath huffed out in front of her from the cold; if not for her own body heat, she would surely be sleeping with a deep chill. The light was coming through the windows faintly, telling her that is wasn't too late in the day, as it felt to her tired muscles. She forgot the last time she had slept so deeply as to forget what time of day it was. Usually, her internal body clock would wake her up before her dream would, that or Daryl would have jolted her from her nightmare.

Falling back into the warm clusters of blankets, she didn't want to pull herself out so soon, and instead slowly began to drift through her thoughts. She didn't even remember when she had fallen asleep the night before, aside from the fact that the deep tones of Rick and Daryl had aided in lulling her into her ever inviting dreams. Those dreams had been pleasant in the beginning, but had quickly turned rather bleak.

She had been dreaming of her mother, still alive and well. At first it had been when she was younger, and she knew her mother was still alive, like she was remembering in her sleep, but they she was a grown woman and her mother was still there. There had been a deep feeling of dread in her chest before everything had just gone so dark and she was left to watch as her mother and father were devoured by walkers, one of which had looked like Daryl. At the sight of Daryl, her mind had turned her around into a new scene, where she had first begun to see walkers while she knew Daryl was still alive but she had no way of getting to him.

Huffing into the blankets, Jamie craned her neck a moment later to try and see where the others were, already knowing from the silence in the truck that Daryl and Rick were no longer sitting in the front seats. Pulling herself up a bit, she was able to see the faint traces of smoke from the fire that they must have lit outside in the center of their 'truck circle' so that they could heat something up for breakfast. Beginning to extract herself from the blankets, Jamie paused to shiver when the door behind her opened slightly and let in a rush of cold air.

"Jay?" a small voice asked, taking her by surprise. Looking over her shoulder, Carl was poking his head in the open door, looking chilled and hesitant.

"Yes?" she egged on, trying to get him to say what he was so reluctant to.

"Can I come in here with you for a while?" he finally asked with his voice small as he bowed it a bit. Glancing through the window again, Jamie noticed that Lori was having some sort of argument with Rick again and clearly Carl was getting cold sitting outside the entire time. Lori always wanted the small boy at her side, but the cold got to him much faster than her since she was both accustomed to it and she was wearing so many layers for her health that they doubted she would get cold.

"Your mum doesn't know you're here, I'm guessing?" she asked before letting out a sigh and opening up her blanket as a silent invite. Carl smiling timidly but happily hopped into the back seat with her and crawled up beside her, under the still warm blankets. Jamie frowned when she felt how much he was actually shaking and looked down at the small boy in worry. The cold still clung to him from outside and it made her shiver in reply to his touch before she forced her muscles to relax and her arm move around him to try and give him more heat.

"Breakfast is almost ready," Carl started talking, leaning against Jamie's side like an old friend. "They didn't want to wake you up until it was done, but I saw you moving around in here," he added on.

"Ain't your mum going to worry about you?" she asked calmly, rubbing her hand along his upper arm to try and warm him up faster. "Won't be too happy to find you with me."

"She doesn't hate you," Carl said quickly, drawing her eyes down at him in surprise. "She just…she's angry. I think it's because of what happened on the farm, losing everything so quickly." Nodding along to what he was saying, Jamie was surprised that Carl seemed to know so much. Everyone always seemed to think that he was a foolish little child because he was still so young in comparison to the rest of them. She didn't want to think that there was a chance he was wrong. Carl knew his mother, and she trusted what he was saying; she hoped that there was a chance she and Lori could repair whatever had been between them.

Even if they didn't, she would never regret taking the blame for Rick.

"I don't envy your mum," Jamie began as she reached up to begin running her fingers through his hair, feeling the grease that had set in after so long without a proper washing but paying it no mind. Hers couldn't be much better anyway. "And I can't say I understand what she's going through, so all I can do is hope that things get better with time."

"They will," he answered, still hesitating with saying it since he didn't really know if he could say anything for sure. "Everything will."

"It will," Jamie assured, feeling her chest tighten with doubt. "Everything will be just fine, Carl. Someday, things will be better and… _normal._ "

Outside of the truck, by the fire, Lori stood next to Rick, listening to him talk even as she stared toward the truck that Carl had climbed in. When she had heard the door close a couple of minutes before she glanced over, along either everyone else in camp, to see if Jamie was awake only to watch as Carl climbed in alongside the blonde. There was no trouble seeing her son curled up beside Jamie, watching as she stroked his hair like a mother would, speaking with him in a way that she knew was reassuring. A hand fell to rest on her stomach as Rick stopped speaking next to her, watching as his wife focused on who their son was with. He waited, wondering if she was going to react and he was going to have to stop her or if she would let it go this time.

"She's taking better care of my son than I am," she began, looking away and instead staring down at the fire. "I can't even…I can't take care of Carl and it's not even because of the pregnancy. What kind of-"

"Stop this, Lori," Rick interrupted as he reached over to take her hand, tugging her over to sit down on a log they had rolled over to the fire to sit down. "You have done nothing wrong taking care of Carl. This isn't any normal life we're living, you're doing the best that you can with what you've got. No one can fault you for that. I don't, and I know that Carl doesn't either."

"Then why is he spending so much time with her?"

Tightening his hold on her hands, Rick frowned for a moment before putting aside his negative thoughts. "Jamie's a friend, Lori. She's someone that only ever wants to help people, especially if that person is a child. When I first met her, she was with those two I told you about. Morgan and Duane. She treated Duane like something so precious; she would have given her life to make sure that boy survived. I rest a little easier knowing that she is someone I can trust to protect Carl against all odds. I know that you don't like her right now, because of what happened on the farm, but you've got to understand that this is not a time to be against someone that could keep our son safe."

Rick refused to let Lori look away from him as he was speaking, forcing her to see the emotion in his eyes as he was talking and bringing her to the point of wanting to cry. The others around them didn't acknowledge the conversation, even though they could hear it as clear as day.

"She is a good woman, Lori, and I trust her with Carl's life but you need to learn to put your trust in her as well."

"I want to," she said a quick moment later, "and in many ways I do, but there's just that constant thought that she killed someone. She killed one of our own, Rick, and what's worse is that our son shot him after when he was a walker. Jamie  _killed_  Shane and sometimes, that's all that I can think about when I see her. When I see her with our son."

Rick felt his chest tighten and his heart constrict, knowing that the reason Lori hated Jamie was because she was protecting him. If it had been the other way around, Lori would hate him instead of her. Jamie just wanted to protect their family ties, keep them together as a mother, father and their child. With another on the way. Knowing that Lori was pregnant was most likely the thing that had been the deciding factor in regards to telling Lori what she did.

"Lori…she-" he stopped himself just before he told her everything. Told her that Jamie wasn't the one who killed Shane, but instead it was him. However, that would make everything that she had put herself through for nothing, that would ruin his chances of fixing things with Lori and making sure that their future child and their present one had both parents together, and not both parents separate.

He wouldn't make it so that she went through it all for naught.

"She did it to protect me, and to protect all of us. If Shane had survived, he would have killed me, then Jamie, and whoever else got in his way. Yes, she killed a man but it was not in vain and it was not without reason."

Lori opened her mouth to speak again, but her throat seemed to constrict around the words and she was instead left to look away at last. Her eyes moved to the truck, seeing that Jamie and Carl were talking on a more positive subject while Carl appeared to steady be drifted back to sleep. He hadn't wanted to crawl out of his blankets that morning and instead wanted to remain warm and asleep. But Lori had been selfish and wanted to have her son close by, within her sights. "I'll try," she finally whispered.

Jamie lay back against the seat with Carl leaning back against her, having fallen back asleep since his mother had woken him so early. Holding his small form in her arms, she felt strange to be taking care of a child. Even in such a small way. She was accustomed to holding someone as she slept, but that someone was a rather large and muscled redneck. Daryl was much warmer than Carl was, as well. She wasn't accustomed to being the heater in the equation.

Thinking on her fiancé, Jamie looked out the window to see that he was helping Carol with finishing the meal in front of the fire, a couple of feet away from where Lori and Rick were talking. She was a bit too relieved to be there with Carl, away from everyone. She missed her solitude, from her apartment. The only other person that she ever spent time with someone at her apartment was with Daryl, so to always have someone nearby when she just needed some space was overwhelming and deeply irritating.

It wasn't so bad to be sitting with Carl, mostly since he was asleep and not trying to talk to her.

Looking down at his face, since it was tilted up toward her from the way he was resting his head on her shoulder, Jamie couldn't stop herself from smiling at the sight of him with his mouth hanging open just slightly in his sleep. She realized that there was a strong chance she looked the same way the night before, falling into a dead sleep while Rick and Daryl had been discussing some plans.

Leaning her head back, it fell against the window because of how tall she was, unlike how Carl would have landed on a headrest had he not been so close to her when he fell asleep. Deciding that she wasn't going anywhere, Jamie closed her eyes and tightened her arms around Carl to keep the boy close as she began to drift off to sleep once more, forcing her mind to shut down for the time being.

This would be her solitude, for now.

_Jamie rushed toward the screaming woman as Juliana remained locked in place, unable to move against the all-consuming fear. Ripping around the corner to the front foyer, Jamie felt the blood in her veins turn to ice at the sight of one of the infected people crouched over Juliana's friend, the woman on the ground crying as she tried to kick the dead man away from her. Jamie looked around for something to use as a weapon but the only thing nearby was an umbrella leaning beside the shoe rack_

" _Help me!" the woman screamed through her tears, having spotted Jamie from the corner of her as she tried to crawl back. Jamie could see a distinct bite wound on her hand and remembered what Daryl had been able to tell her when they had been on the phone for those brief minutes._

" _Duck!" Jamie screamed, rushing forward with the umbrella brandished as a weapon. The dead man rasped and scratched at the floor, trying to pull himself closer to the scrambling woman. He was still half in the hallway, one of his legs mangled and half hanging off. The woman ducked down as she had been ordered and Jamie swung upward with the umbrella, catching the biting man under the chin. The umbrella snapped from the force but it was enough to knock him back into the hallway and give Jamie the room to slam the apartment door shut once more._

" _Oh god, oh god," the woman was murmuring behind her as she clutched her hand to her stomach, curling into a ball on the floor. "Help me!" she screamed again, this time toward the roof. Jamie glanced up, realizing that she was screaming to God, not to her._

_Dropping the broken umbrella, she strode away from the bleeding woman, knowing that there was nothing more that she could do. Juliana had finally pulled herself out of her original place and was standing in the doorway, pale and sickly, as she stared at the entrance way. She must have been there long enough to see what happened, and had clearly seen that her friend had been bitten._

_Moving into the bathroom where she had remembered seeing a rod meant for hanging drying cloths over, Jamie quickly pulled it free from the holders and checked to make sure that it was thick enough metal before making her way back toward the kitchen. "You might want to get her out of the apartment. I don't know how long it takes."_

" _What do you mean?" Juliana asked in a choked tone, glancing toward the blonde as she picked a kitchen knife from its holding on the counter._

" _Hope you don't mind if I borrow these," Jamie said in an almost sarcastic tone. "She's been bitten; it's only so long before she'll be biting you." Stepping around the fallen woman, she didn't offer another acknowledgment as she opened the apartment door to the rasping dead man once more, driving the kitchen knife into his head and silencing the frightening sound immediately._

" _Don't leave us!" Juliana screamed from behind her. "How do you know?"_

" _My fiancé," Jamie answered just before she closed the apartment door, glancing at the different doors to make sure she was following the apartments to lower digits, meaning she was heading toward the stairs. Holding the knife in her good hand with the pipe in the other, she knew she would need both to get herself to a car alive, and only wished that she had some supplies with her. Maybe she could get to her car to at least salvage her bag of clothing._

_Glancing back to the sound of an opening door, Juliana was standing outside of her apartment door with tears creating lines down her face, blood on her hands with a knife resting in her left one._

" _There," Juliana assured. "Now it's safe."_

Jolting awake for the second time, Jamie nearly lurched forward at the sick feeling that overtook her, but she was forced to freeze when she felt a small pair of arms tighten around her stomach. Glancing down, she stopped at the sight of an awake Carl with his arms wrapped around her and his head resting on her thigh, the blankets mostly falling away from them.

"It'll get better," he whispered, sounding as if he was trying to assure her. Jamie ran a shaking hand down her face, realize with a slight shock that she had been crying in her sleep. Sniffling rather loudly, she lowered her hand to Carl's hair once more and began to soothingly stroke the oily strands. "It'll get better. It'll be safe again."

_Now it's safe._


	5. In This Waking Nightmare

_We really are a dysfunctional family, now._

That was what Jamie thought after the first night that they had all spent together in the house Rick and Daryl had picked inside the town. Sitting on the counter in the kitchen, her hair let loose from the tie she usually had it in to keep her neck and ears warm, Jamie watched as they all seemed to flow like some kind of circuit. In many ways, it was broken, but there were others there to make up and compensate for the damage to their routine.

She doubted they even realized that they did it; she surely hadn't noticed that she had been a part of that circuit until she stepped back and watched from afar.

A week later, she noticed more and more just what a broken unit they were, but that unit was family and they displayed that, too. From the bloodlines within them, like Lori and Carl or Beth and Maggie, to her and Daryl's never-ending engagement to be married or the friendships like Hershel and Rick. Then there was Jamie's relation with Rick, that seemed to have become to female best friend that took over the wifely habits, or Daryl's newfound brotherhood with Rick and gradually with Glenn.

Carl was steadily becoming Jamie's shadow, Lori was becoming to viciously protective mother bear, Rick was the gruelingly passive yet overbearing father and Daryl was the silent, yet ever watchful brother. The rest of the group seemed to have succumbed to a routine based around this strange dynamic; avoiding Jamie, avoiding Lori when Jamie was avoiding Lori, preventing Daryl from getting too close to Lori after she insults Jamie, don't let Lori see Jamie and Rick alone at any time even when it's only having a totally platonic conversation.

Now, after having lived with this off group for only about two weeks, Jamie felt that there was no way she could have survived without them. Even if it meant being the enemy of Lori, or having to deal with the others in the group hating her for the lie that she told them about Shane's death, so be it. She wouldn't give any of it up. Daryl hated that she was just taking their attitude, since she most certainly would not have in the past. He wasn't a fool, he knew that there was something very important from that night that he wasn't told, but he wasn't about to interfere with what his fiancé clearly wanted to keep to herself. There would always be secrets, even between them; no matter how open they were as friends and as a couple, they would always keep things to themselves in order to protect the other or to protect their own self.

"It snowed," was the first thing Jamie said one morning, not even having woken completely yet as she lay curled into Daryl's side.

"How the fuck do you know that?" Daryl mumbled back, feeling the heat of her breath on his neck.

"Cold, dry air. The temperature's dropped quite a bit since we went to sleep," she explained before stopping to yawn deeply before squeezing herself flush against her fiancé as she tried to steal the warmth that was emanating from his body. "Mmm, my furnace."

Daryl smiled at her comment, bending to kiss the top of her head before closing his eyes and once more beginning to doze. She was correct, of course. The air was frigid and dry, penetrating through their mound of blankets in their small little closet. Even though they were all staying in a house now and technically had a room to themselves, the closet was compact and kept in more of their body heat than the vastness of the room they had chosen.

They had spent most of the time on watch, making sure that no walkers got too close to the house or at least didn't get close enough to draw attention. Spending the night on watch, they were given the morning off and were quite pleased to spend the hours lying in the tight little closet, pressed against each other for body heat. Jamie continuously spun her engagement ring around her finger as she lay encircled in Daryl's arms, letting her mind drift away to the day that they may actually get married.

It would never be a regular ceremony, not in a church or with a 'man of god' reciting from the Bible. No, it more than likely would be a shotgun wedding in Vegas or just a scrawling of their names on a piece of paper. Neither cared for the pomp and circumstance that was most weddings; they would be content simply with the right to call each other husband and wife.

In truth, Jamie believed that Daryl was most excited about getting to call her 'mine' and get away with it.

When they finally emerged from their closet, she had been right. There was a fine layer of snow on the ground, only a light dusting that would melt when the sun came out if it didn't snow again, but the air was biting and the wind only made it worse for those who had to leave the house at any point in time. As the bathroom they had set up was outside, this was a tragically common thing.

"Someone's gunna get frostbite on their ass," Daryl commented when Jamie complained about needing to pee but refused to go outside until absolutely necessary.

"Better your ass than your balls," she answered with a smirk, getting a light, playful smack on the back of her head from Daryl that only made her laugh.

"Look who finally crawled out of their dark hole," Carol teased when the two of them eventually made their way into the kitchen, Jamie standing with her legs crossed at an odd angle to try and stop the urge to pee. "What are you doing?" the older woman asked when she took notice.

Daryl, being the genius that he was, poked her in her lower stomach that had her flinching over and clenching her thighs. "Delaying," he answered for her, grinning with evil intent that left Jamie with a decision. Should she take her chances with Daryl's evil look and risk him causing her to pee her pants, or brave having to squat in the snow and nearly freeze her butt off.

"The wind's died down," Carol tried to persuade, looking between the two. While Daryl was looking like that cat that had caught the canary, Jamie was staring at him like he had  _may_ or _may not_  have spiked her lunch with rat poison.

"Take the chance now, Angel, or you'll be needin' a change of pants," he challenged. Glancing over to Carol for help, Jamie raised an eyebrow as she waited for the others' opinion. When the nodded her head toward the back of the house, Jamie let out a huff before turning to leave, snatching where she had left her handgun on the counter from the night before during watch.

When she came back into the house some of the others had returned from their little jobs around the house, weather-proofing it, and were sitting around the kitchen in various places. Daryl was one of the few actually sitting in a chair.

"Now was that so bad?" Carol asked in a low voice, not letting the others hear since she knew that they would want to know and it would embarrass even Jamie's blunt personality.

"My ass is cold," she snapped back, more out of mock annoyance than actually feeling it.

Daryl pulled her down into his lap when she got close enough, seating her on this thighs with his arm landing across her stomach to keep her close. "I'll warm it up," he whispered in her ear, getting a grin in response that Jamie tried quite desperately to smother before the others took notice.

"So, how have you been keeping busy?" she asked Glenn instead, since he was sitting across the table from them munching on his lunch just as Carol placed two more bowls on the table for her and Daryl. The Asian looked surprised at the question, but swallowed down his portion and began explaining that they were sealing off most of the windows that they didn't use to keep watch, that and the basement since there was a bad draft and they didn't use it for anything.

"Rick was saying that he and T-Dog would do the window in your room once you two got up; they're probably doing that now, actually," Glenn finished, glancing upward since the couple had the bedroom directly above the kitchen. It had once been a guest room and the closet had previously been stocked full of blankets and sheets. Unlike most houses, this one hadn't been touched and it was one of the main reasons Daryl and Rick picked it as their base for the winter. The only thing that had been missing was food, which was taken when the people left, and they had plenty of that after Jamie fell through the floor.

"Are you guys just using plastic?"

"We pulled insulation from the walls in the basement since we're taping it off anyway. We stick that against the window, then tape plastic over it to close it off and keep it in place," he explained as Jamie nodded along as she listened, taking occasional bites of the soup that Carol had made from one of the cans, luckily finding one that only required water.

Daryl jumped at one point when she shifted, her loss of weight making the bones in her butt more prominent. When she moved her pelvic bone jabbed into his thigh and struck pain through the limb. He nearly tossed the woman from his lap as she simply laughed in complete amusement, wiggling her butt and getting groans of pain from him.

"Fuck, stop it," he finally cursed, smacking her thigh.

Finishing her soup, Jamie moved away to help Carol wash up the rest of the dishes. Once she had her back turned, the amusement on Daryl's face, the faint smile lines around his mouth and eyes, faded away as he watched her. She had lost more weight, even though they had found food thanks to her. Her ribs were continuing to become visible and her thighs had gotten a lot thinner, no longer holding the soft meat that he had become accustomed to through their years of dating. She still had the toned muscle, but even that wasn't enough to keep her healthy appearance.

"She's getting worse," he said to Rick later that day when Jamie had left to help Carol make dinner, Carl sitting in the kitchen with them as they carefully made a fire in the sink and cracked open the window to let out the smoke. It was soup again, but at least they weren't having beans for the fourth day in a row.

"Jamie?" Rick asked as he paused in cleaning his gun, looking up from where he had been inspecting the disassembled pieces.

"Thinner," Daryl explained, nodding at the same time to answer the question. "Why is she still losing weight? She doesn't need to give away her food anymore." The worry was evident in the redneck's voice and there was a concern in his eyes that reminded Rick of when he had first discovered Jamie was alive, but left behind in a city overrun with walkers.

"Maybe it's a stress thing?" he tried to suggest, putting down the cleaning tools to give his attention to Daryl. "I mean, we're all on edge. There hasn't been any problems for a couple weeks and it's not normal 'round here. It could also be that her body's just burning more calories because it's trying to keep warm in the winter." He wasn't sure if he was right, or if those things would alleviate Daryl's fears, but there was also nothing either of them could do. He was sure that if Daryl pressed her enough, Jamie would admit if something was wrong, but since she hadn't breached any topic of being ill or having trouble eating there wasn't much that they could do.

She had been eating fine, they had both seen it. No more meals passed down to Carl or someone else because she 'wasn't hungry'. Perhaps she was just burning more calories.

"Is she pregnant?" Rick asked in a hushed voice, wanting to make sure that there was no chance it was because she was eating for two.

"No," Daryl answered immediately, not taking offence to the suggestion that they hadn't been careful. Rick was right to consider it a possibility. "We're careful about that, and she'd have told me if she was. Maybe it is just the winter; I can't remember if she ever ate more than normal in the past. Those things just…didn't stick with me."

"Not your fault," Rick assured, resuming the cleaning of his handgun. "Wasn't exactly expected of you to monitor her eating habits."

At the sound of Carol and Jamie laughing from inside the kitchen, both men leaned in their seats to get a look only to spot Carl trying to wipe cream of cauliflower soup off of his nose where Jamie had smeared it. Popping her finger in her mouth to remove the rest of it, Jamie glanced over her shoulder to see them watching and smiled as she returned to the task of stirring the thick soup to make sure it didn't burn in the pot.

With her back turned to them, both men could see that even though her body was growing thinner, her blonde hair was getting steadily longer and reached near mid-back now. She had braided it when they got up that morning, pulling it away from her face but keeping it so that her hair covered her ears in the cold air. The darkened strands of golden blonde and dark brown twisting together, swinging from side to side whenever she shifted her focus from one thing to another.

Rick noticed slightly painfully that Daryl was more than right about her weight, seeing as the dimple on her cheek was near invisible because of the lack of fat in her already hollowed cheeks. He thought back to the photo that Daryl had shown them when he arrived from the city, the prominent dimple in her cheek making her look like she was still youthful enough to have evidence of baby-fat.

"She'll be alright," he tried to assure the shaggy haired male, seeing as Daryl was still staring at her with a look almost akin to grief in his eyes. She was withering away and more than anyone else he had to watch it up close.

It was a slow winter, dragged out with problems of their food beginning to run out, the house at a constant temperature of freezing and the ever present tension that had built up between certain parties. After a month of staying in the tight house, Lori had gone from lashing out at Jamie to completely ignoring her, giving the woman a break from the scathing remarks that gave her the chance to regain her friendship with others in the group. Maggie seemed relieved to have someone closer to her age as a friend, especially someone that already got along so well with those she loved.

It was in the biting cold of February when Lori admitted to Rick that she was glad to have Jamie teaching Carl math. As an architect her math abilities were strong and she knew tricks that she was able to teach Carl that made it easy and quick without the technology that so many had begun to depend on, like a calculator. They spent hours a week sitting on the floor of the living room or in Jamie and Daryl's room, bundled in sweaters and blankets while she gave him math problems, let him try to solve it his way before she gave him a new trick and a new problem to test it on.

By the end of February Carol had to cut Jamie's hair before she ended up sitting on the end of her braid, taking off a good four inches to get it back to her shoulder blades. Carl had been sitting next to her as Carol slowly snipped away, making sure the length of it was an even cut. Sitting on the floor, Carl caught a curl of hair as it was falling, feeling the silky strands between his fingers. When Jamie noticed him playing with one of her lost locks of hair she picked up another and tickled his nose with it, getting a giggle from him before he scooted backward so that she was no longer able to reach. Jamie laughed at the adorable wrinkle of his nose before she returned to her position to let Carol finish.

Letting her hair get chopped off started a domino effect that resulted in the rest of the group sitting where she had been, a plastic bag under their butt and behind them so catch the falling locks of hair. Daryl had been the only one to go quietly when Jamie gave him a look that told him he was either getting it done that day by Carol or by her that night while he slept.

"Next we just need to get the men to shave," Jamie had mock-whispered to Carol, the entire room hearing, and getting snickers from the girls as they looked over to their scruffy men. Daryl gave Jamie a familiar look and she patted his cheek assuredly. "There, there. You can keep the goatee."

The winter was long and it was cold, March and April just as chilled as January and February. There was still a steady fall of snow on the first of April, but the sun had melted it away by the next day. Midway through March, they had redone their taping around the windows and doors to make sure the cold was kept at bay for as long as possible. They kept a careful reserve of their food, making sure to ration it and to go out as often as was safe in search of more at other houses.

The only upside to the snow that covered the ground for so many months was the fact that the walkers seemed to be frozen from the cold, and either could not move at all or were too weak to get through the thick drifts of snow that covered the entire country. Moving between the houses to raid what was left became easy during the winter months, but at the same time there was always the concern that other people would come to the town and see their tracks.

Spending all of that time together, crammed into such close quarters, it had become a slightly more functioning family dynamic. Lori and Jamie didn't need to be kept from one another lest there be the chance that a fight break out; they basically just ignored each other, but there was evidence that Lori had come to grudgingly accept that Jamie did help to protect them and she was a strong asset to them all. Carl adored her, especially when it meant he could hang around Daryl all of the time. The few instances that he had gone out hunting with the redneck, more often than not coming back empty handed, he had begun to look up to the other man with a shine in his eyes. It wasn't quite hero worship, but the way in which he adored him so much told of an elder brother relationship.

Daryl was slightly uncomfortable at first, having Carl shadow him around, but over time he actually began to act like a sort of mentor, even helping him to perfect his aim. Jamie found the entire thing much too adorable, which just irritated Daryl. She found it a bit too funny when she would volunteer him for 'babysitting detail' and stick Carl with him for the day. In truth, she was almost relieved for the small boy not to be focusing on her for a little while. Since the morning in the truck, when she had woken back up crying with Carl assuring her, things had been strange around the young boy. He looked at her like knew a great secret of hers; in a way, he did.

There were many nights when Jamie would wake up, dreaming of the ones who had died because of the infection that had spread like a plague over the world. Some faces were of those she knew, grew up with or cherished. Others were people she met along the way, making her way to wherever Daryl could have been, alive and well. She dreamt of Morgan and Duane, imagining such terrible things that could have happened to them after she left, and why they hadn't kept in contact with Rick.

On the worst nights, it was Daryl that was dying.

It was those nights that he woke her up from her thrashing, holding onto her to the point that it was a miracle that her bones were not breaking beneath his strength. But she would hold him in return, tugging at his clothes, his arms or his torso until she was sure she could almost disappear in his embrace. It grew worse on the days that she had been with the scouting group, entering homes and seeing the ways that people had lived before. Looking at pictures on the walls of smiling families that she knew were most likely already dead in the new, apocalyptic world.

This was one of the mornings.

Even though it had finally begun to warm up outside, Jamie still woke up trembling in Daryl's arms. One of his hands was stroking her arm assuredly, warming the flesh beneath her sweater from the friction. She was struggling to breathe at first, her throat tight and dry against the deep heaves she was taking in. Daryl tried to whisper reassuringly into her ear, the warmth of his breath caressing her skin as her hair tickled his chin and cheek.

Only two people knew of her nightmares, Daryl and Carl. Daryl realized that there was nothing more he could do and he was confident that Jamie would be able to cope, especially now that there was talk of them leaving to get on the road again. Staying in one place was starting to make everyone go mad, especially when it wasn't nearly as welcoming and comfortable as Hershel's place had been on that large land of his farm. Carl, however, found himself worried over the woman when he would see her the mornings of her nightmares and her eyes seemed hollow and tired, like she had gotten no sleep at all. She was able to cover it up to most, but for a child he noticed the haunted look as one that all of the adults had worn at some point or another. No one seemed to realize that just because he wasn't as old as they were, did not mean he wasn't able to see when they were worried or tired.

Daryl only stopped whispering in her ear when her body shakes had calmed slightly, making her shiver every once and a while but remaining still for the most part. Her hand sought his upon her arm, taking his larger hand within hers as drawing his arm across her chest so that he was holding onto her. Lying with her back to his chest, she could only see the darkness of the wall, but there was the reassuring warmth behind her from Daryl's presence that let her know she was awake and he was safe.

"What happened?" Daryl finally asked nearly an hour later, the light of day beginning to creep through the crack beneath the closet door.

"You were dead," she answered after a brief pause, neither moving more than just to speak. "I got back to town and you were at my apartment. Someone had shot you through the head." Daryl's arms tightened around her in response, leaning his forehead to the back of her head in what he could only hope was some form of reassurance. Even after an entire season of Jamie's nightmares, he still didn't know what to do for her when she woke up.

"I'm right here, Angel, perfectly safe," he whispered against her hair, smelling the wood-smoke from the fire they had burned the day before in the fireplace. They had to keep it small to make sure there wasn't too much smoke, but it helped warm them up a bit more.

"I know," she whispered back, squeezing his hand tightly. "It always feels so real."

"This is real, Angel. This, right now, is reality and it won't change. I ain't goin' nowhere," he promised as he felt and heard the deep exhale she released, seeming to deflate in his arms.

Turning around carefully until she was face to face with her fiancé, Jamie leaned forward to press the ghost of a kiss against his lips as she tried to smile. He knew that she was, even through the dark within the closet, and kissed her back. "I know that. I'll be making sure it stays that way."

Letting out a breathy laugh, Daryl pulled her closer to him and cradled her head against his shoulder as he fought the urge to speak out. She was still strong, and he had every faith in her that if someone tried to kill one of them then she wouldn't hesitate to kill them, but he wasn't so sure if she would last as long in a fight as she may have before. With a gun, he knew she would survive, but he hoped that it never came down to a battle of strength. At least not before she regained the thickness in her limbs that would let him have a moment of peace, no longer fixated on how much she was eating and how many bones he could count through her flesh.

Tipping her face up toward him, Daryl leaned down to press a reassuring kiss to her lips. Jamie exhaled softly as her body almost fully relaxed, leaning upward to kiss him in return. Lifting a hand to trace her fingers along his jaw, she smiled at the feeling of the stubble that had returned to his cheeks after a while of not shaving; she couldn't blame him, though, since she hadn't been able to properly shave in months. It was a good thing she barely ever let him see her without pants.

Reaching up to bury her fingers into Daryl's hair, she pressed harder into the kiss as the familiar feeling of his lips gave her a soothed edge and helped to press away the fear that was still stinging her chest. Pulling her tight, flush against his body until their warmth mingled completely beneath the pressing weight of their blankets, Daryl cradled her head in one of his arms and leaned down into the kiss until she was pressed down into their makeshift mattress.

" _Daryl! Jamie!_ " the voice of Rick called in a desperate whisper from the bedroom that their closet was attached to. They each snapped back away from one another, realizing the graveness of his voice and immediately pulled back and opening the door, thankfully already dressed in their day clothes for better warmth at night.

"What's wrong?" Jamie asked from where she was still kneeling amongst the blankets, her eyes wide and her hair still wild from sleep.

"Walkers, lots of them. They've been moving in slowly for a week but they caught up last night and if we don't leave now we're gunna be swarmed; pack your things up."

Keeping his voice low they each realized that the walkers must have been very close if he was trying to stop all forms of loud noises and they both nodded silently and began packing their things away. Since their clothes were always packed and ready to be taken in case of a quick getaway, all they needed to do was bag and tie their blankets more compact to be stashed into the back of their truck.

Since their window was insulated, they couldn't even get a look outside and instead made sure they were fully packed up before sneaking into the hallway to get a look outside through the small window there. On the yard of the house they were in there were a few walkers straggling but in the distance up the road they could see more and more were getting up and sluggishly moving around. Sadly, the warm weather also meant that the dead bodies were starting to thaw and move around once more.

"Fuck," she muttered with that one glance, Daryl nodding in agreement next to her before they each shuffled their way down the short set of stairs to get to the main foyer where the rest of the group was packing up their other supplies, the women in the kitchen making sure to put the pots and food away as silently as possible.

Rick waved them over as soon as they were in the room, drawing them to him. "They're still slow from the cold so as soon as we've got everything we'll all run out to the trucks. I want you two to flank us to make sure no walkers get behind us while we're packing our things into the vehicles. We'll take your things and you can ride with me and Hershel."

"I assume using guns are out of the question," Jamie began, checking that her knife was strapped tightly to her hip with no chance of her losing it.

"Yea," he answered immediately, glancing to where Lori was standing with Carl and giving him a nod. They were ready. It was barely dawn and they were already up and rushing from the building that they had called home for some time.

"Take it easy out there," Rick warned as he was walking with them. "They are slow, but their numbers are gaining."

Thankfully, aside from a bag of clothes and other things for each person, the only other thing they needed to carry was the food. They could get the entire collection of their things in one go so long as nothing was dropped while they were crossing the yard to get to the trucks.

"Ready?" Rick asked in a quiet, calm tone as he looked over the group.

Jamie pulled her knife and handed her blanket over to T-Dog to carry, her bag remaining stung over her shoulder. Daryl's crossbow was already in hand, loaded with an arrow as he gave Rick a simple nod.

It was time to move on.


	6. Blow Out Your Memories

Just as the winter was cold, the summer was inevitably going to be a hot. Come the beginning of May the sun was beating down on the survivors like a sauna. Staying in the vehicles had once been a reprieve in the winter, but the case of hot metal was too much to bear for the apocalypse survivors now. Returning to the tank tops and jeans, sleeping bags and extra coats were thrown into the back of the truck bed where they were out of the way but still kept for the next winter.

Sitting on the back bumper of one of the trucks, Jamie had stripped off the light sweater she had worn for the morning chill, now sitting in her faded blue tank top that had already been stained with a mixture of dirt and blood from their fights against walkers.

Blinking tired eyes, Jamie leaned back against the back window of the truck, not caring that it got dirt and dust in her hair or that her already filthy clothes only became worse. Closing her eyes for a moment the blonde woman could feel the weight of her bones beneath her waning muscle, keeping her grounded but weighing her down in the same moment.

"Jay."

Looking up in faint surprise, Jamie's hazel eyes had a faint trace of red around them from her lack of sleep. Lori stood before her, her hand resting on her engorged stomach with a look of maternal concern etched on her face.

"Jay…I'm worried about you," Lori admitted in a small voice. It wasn't that she felt wrong for saying it, it was true, and mostly because she knew that it was partially her fault that Jamie's health was slowly deteriorating. She hadn't noticed it as soon as the others had, but when warmer weather rolled in and the large bulky sweaters and thick coats were removed, Jamie's once muscled form was revealed to have shrunken down to skeletal proportions.

"Seems to be the consensus these days," Jamie joked humourlessly with a wry smile touching her lips. Some days, when Daryl was able to get her through a proper night's sleep, she actually looked like the woman that they had all come to know.

"Jamie-"

"Not now," Jamie interrupted as she rose to her feet, sounding tired and sad as she glanced at Lori for only a moment before turning away. Thinking back to the beginning, when Jamie had first returned with Rick and the others to the camp, the soon-to-be mother felt such grief as she mentally reminded herself of who Jamie used to be, and that it was  _her_  fault she was the woman she appeared to be now. Lori had spent the entire winter gradually hating herself more and more as all that she had done to Jamie, and to Rick, set in.

Rushing after the other woman as quickly as she could with her bloated stomach, Lori took a hold on Jamie's arm and spun her around. Gripping her upper arms and staring into her eyes with a motherly glare, Lori was not about to let her walk away again. "You need to stop this, Jamie. Hate me if you have to, but do  _not_  just give up and rot away like those things out there."

Staring at Lori with wide eyes, Jamie appeared more awake than she had in a long time.

"I'm sorry, Jamie, I am so sorry for everything that I said and did to you. Please, please, stop doing this to yourself. If not for me, if not for you, than for Daryl and Rick. They are sick with worry over you; we all are."

Shaking her head, Jamie lifted her hands to clasp Lori's and hold them in a boney grip. "It's not about you, Lori. I don't blame you, I may not be your biggest fan but I don't hate you, and you need to understand that _I'm_   _trying_." Stressing her words and tightening her hands on Lori's, Jamie was looking into the mother's eyes with something Lori related with anguish.

"Lori?" Rick's voice called from around the truck, a map in his hands that he was carefully folding up. Circling the vehicle, Jamie had just dropped the other woman's hands and was turning to leave. Rick's face darkened as he took in her boney shoulders and slim neck. Meeting Lori's eyes, he could see the concern and grief reflecting in the dark brown pools. He and Lori had been struggling to keep themselves together, for Carl's sake. Rick was not going to let Jamie's sacrifice go in vain, but he was beginning to realize that her behaviour may not be entirely because of how Lori treated her when she confessed the lie about Shane's death.

"I can't…I don't know what else to do, Rick. It's like watching her die and I know that it's because of me-"

"No," Daryl said as he came around to Rick's side, the other man looking at him with questioning eyes. Daryl was watching where Jamie walked to the truck they had their things in, pulling out her bottle of water from her knapsack. "You shook her in the beginning, everyone did. But now…this is something else entirely. Somethin's….haunting her," Daryl explained with a dark look that looked much the same as Rick's.

"By what happened with Shane?" Lori asked in a meek voice, not wanting so stir anything up with that simple question. It was a tender subject for Rick and Jamie, and in connection it was for Daryl as well. He was very sensitive to Jamie and the things that hurt her; mentally, physically or emotionally.

Daryl only shook his head before he moved past Lori to follow Jamie's path, the blonde still standing at the truck as she was staring into the trees. Her hair had returned to the lighter colour as the summer season bleached the strands naturally. However, just as her skin held a pale pallor and her limbs were growing thin, it appeared unhealthy even after she had brief chances to wash it in steams or when they collected rainwater.

Standing behind her and resting his chin on her shoulder, Daryl felt Jamie heave a sigh and lean her head so that her temple rested against his hair. "Sometimes I feel like she's trying too hard," Jamie admitted, thinking of Lori. "But…I'm grateful that we're on…speaking terms."

"She really is worried about you, Angel. We all are. I don't want you gettin' eaten 'cause you're too damn tired," Daryl confessed in a resigned tone. Jamie knew all about his concern; she felt it and saw it whenever they woke up after she had tossed about most of the night, or when he shook her awake from a nightmare before she accidentally woke anyone else.

"Sorry," she whispered sorrowfully, not liking that she was making the others suffer as well. Turning her head, she pressed a kiss against his temple as his arms snaked around her waist, holding onto her tightly.

Only short minutes later the group had finished collecting their things back up and stored them in the truck before they tucked inside the large vehicles as well. Jamie sat in the driver's seat with Carol behind her, T-Dog in the passenger seat and Hershel behind the black man. It was silent in the truck, but Jamie didn't mind that. The lack of sleep allowed for easy headaches, so she was grateful for the silence. Rick and Daryl were leading their small caravan, having found a town that was deep in the forest, hopefully meaning that many of the houses were hidden enough to still have some stock inside of them. They had already finished off the supplies that they found at the beginning of the cold winter season, so they were now scraping by on the small rations that they could find.

The only blessing that came with the heat was the returning of animals for Daryl to hunt and cook. Most were small, but they were plentiful.

T-Dog glanced at the woman sitting next to him, his eyes taking in her tired appearance. Even though she clearly needed sleep, she was alert and wide awake as she was driving. That was one time that she never let her fatigue get the better of her, especially with so many others in a car with her. They were soon pulling off of the main, paved road onto the dirt roads that would lead down to cabins that they hoped were still somewhat stocked.

"Do you think there'll be food there?" Carol asked from the back, finally breaking the silence that had fallen over the truck. She kept her voice calm and soft, having realized Jamie's new pension for headaches a while back.

"No," the blonde admitted as she turned the steering wheel to follow the other vehicles around a bend in the road. "Any survivors from this past winter would have raided any and every house they found, just like us."

"Got any better ideas?" T-Dog asked, bordering on smart-ass, as he glanced over at her.

She took a quick look at him out of the corner of her eye before she turned her attention back to the road. "No. That's the problem."

Doing their rounds quickly, they were back on the road by the afternoon with only an owl that Daryl had been able to snag as their findings. The guys pulled the map out once more as others stood guard for walkers. Jamie sat on the hood of the truck as she helped T-Dog to mark out where the walkers had been when they last ran into the herds.

"We got no place left to go," he finally declared as he and Jamie finished charting the trajectory of each herd.

"When this herd meets up with this one, we'll be cut off," Maggie explained as Rick came over after assigning Carl to be put on point. He had gotten much better with a gun over the winter season, both because of Daryl's short hunting trips and Rick's careful coaching. He wanted Carl to be able to protect himself, especially after he had been forced to shoot down Shane. "We'll never make it south," Maggie finished, glancing over to where Daryl had stepped up to lean on Jamie's legs, looking down at the points on the map.

"What'chu say? About a hundred-fifty ahead?" he asked as he looked around at the group, mostly centering on Glenn who had gotten the best look out of them all.

"That was last week," the Korean answered. "There could be twice that by now."

"What about the river," Jamie pointed out, her finger tracing the blue line on the map.

Hershel nodded along as he looked at the line that intercepted the two herds of walkers. "She's right, it might have delayed them. If we move fast enough, we might have a shot to tear right through this-"

"Yea, but if this group joins with that one, they could spill out this way," T-Dog argued, cutting off Hershel's plan.

Jamie leaned down on Daryl's shoulder, his arms draped over her legs as he leaned on her thighs. They looked at the map together, listening to the different plans and arguments of the rest of the group. There wasn't much choice in the matter; no matter what they did they had to find a secure place to stay for a while. Lori looked like she was ready to pop and it was a concern for everyone. Hershel had confirmed that it was most likely the next couple of days that she would give birth.

Before they took off again, T-Dog and the others collected the jugs and canteens to head down to the creek to get some water, only a handful of them going. "We should try and get in a hunt before we set off again," Daryl mumbled as he looked up at Jamie, her position on the car leaving her slightly elevated. "We can take Rick along, he's getting pretty good."

"Sounds like a plan," Jamie agreed as she patted her fiancé on the arm. He backed up and let her slide down from the hood and went to collect his crossbow and the quiver that he had been able to lash together to carry more bolts.

"Rick," she called after Hershel stepped away, freeing up the younger man. "Let's go shoot down something to eat," she encouraged. Daryl stopped at her side to load an arrow into his crossbow. Rick gave her an amused stare at her wording, relieved that even with all that was happening she still had her odd sense of humour.

"While the others wash their panties, let's go hunt," Daryl clarified. As Rick went to get his gun and explain to Lori where he was going, Jamie turned to Daryl as he spoke again, "That owl didn't exactly hit the spot."

Only a couple of yards into the forest they were able to find a set of long abandoned train tracks, rusted over and growing foliage. Rick motioned for them to follow the tracks, allowing them to return to camp easier than having Daryl lead them back by their own marks on the forest floor. Hunting knife in hand and gun tucked in the back of her pants, the blonde woman walked between the two men with Daryl in the lead. Being out in the open air, with the sun bright above them, she had been able to shake off the worse of her fatigue.

"I could really do with some venison righ' now," Daryl was saying as they manoeuvred around a tree that had fallen onto the tracks, too high to jump over and branches preventing them from going under.

"Shut up," Jamie ordered as her stomach tightened at the thought, nearly growling with hunger.

Rick chuckled lightly as he was reminded of the scare they had given everyone when they returned back late from their hunting trip, carrying a doe on their shoulders. "That was an amazing dinner," he added on. "Still can't believe you carried it back to camp."

"Team work," Jamie answered, causing Daryl to scoff before he ducked under the hand she had been using to swat at his head. The action was familiar and gave Rick enough of a relief that he wasn't completely fixed on Jamie's dwindling health. No matter how tired or weak she became, she tried to make things seem like they had never changed.

The conversation fell when they stepped out of the forest into a large opening on the tracks, revealing a fenced yard with walkers all over it. "That's a shame," Daryl said as he looked over the overrun prison, the people in the yard wearing the deep blue of the prison uniforms, faded with time and weather.

"Literally had no chance," Jamie replied as she looked over the tall fences. "The second someone got sick in there, they were all fucked."

Rick didn't say a word next to them, lost in this own thoughts as he took in every detail that he could see of the fortified building. Glancing over to him, Jamie paused when she saw that there was the faintest of smiles appearing on his face, his blue eyes filling with a hope that she had been missing for a couple of months now.

"Rick?"

"It's perfect," was all he said, turning to look at her briefly as his smile only got wider. Jamie blinked before looking back down at the prison, and then finally over to Daryl. He had a slightly unconvinced look on his face, but he only shrugged when she looked to him. "Come on, let's get the others."

"Wait, Rick, what?" Jamie called when he moved to rush back down the tracks the way they had come.

"It's perfect, Jay," he encouraged excitedly. He was more alive than he had been in a while and Jamie felt an odd sense of mental whiplash. "If we can clear out those walkers, even just the yard, we'll have secured fences and a huge yard to ourselves. And the prison—if we take that prison, we're set for life."

"That's going a bit far, Rick. I mean, we have barely any ammo and that's a lot of walkers," she argued calmly. "Are you sure that you want to take this risk? I get that this place is a haven in comparison to the rest of our pit-stops, but you have to think past the first appearance."

Knowing that she was right, Rick did his best to quell his urge to drag the group over to the prison. He had called off any further group votes, and so it was his final decision. "This could be a really good thing, Jamie. We'll plan it carefully, and we'll take the yard first—see how that goes and then plan from there."

"We'll do that," Daryl agreed, drawing the woman's eyes to him. "We'll see if we can handle the yard. After that we'll make the final decision on the rest of the prison."

Sighing loudly and looking over to the highly populated yard, the blonde felt at war with the hope and the dread that was welling up inside of her. "Alright, we'll do it."

The rest of the group didn't take as much persuasion as Jamie did, with the impending birth of Lori's baby weighing on all of them. They packed up their things and made their way around the border of the prison for a section of fence that didn't have near as many walkers. Jamie kept her knife in hand as she kept to the rear of the group, preventing any walkers from getting at them from behind. Lori stood in the center, protected from anything that could even scratch her.

Rick was at the fence, cutting open a section of the chain-link only big enough for them to duck through. Jamie's knife was already coated in blood from stabbing at an oncoming walker, kicking another with her boot in the direction of T-Dog so that he could smash its head in and stop it from getting to any of the others.

As soon as Rick cut open enough of the fence for them to fit through, they slowly began to trickle through until they were all standing in the division between the yard and the outside world. As they were tying up the fence to close the opening, Jamie handed over the quiver that she had been holding for Daryl, allowing him to reload his crossbow.

Given a moment when nothing was immediately trying to eat them, they had a chance to look around at all of the walkers that were lingering on either side of the fence. Jamie's eyes flicked around to look over the gnashing mouths and clawing hands that were trying to reach them through the fence.

Once Glenn had finished lacing the gap in the fence back together with wire, the group began another hustle to get around to the next opening in the fence. With that gate, they would be able to send someone to make a run for the gate across the yard to close off the only exit from the prison that was allowing more walkers into the yard. The only problem was that the person who was doing the running was going to have to do so before the group could pick of the dead people walking around.

Daryl led the group at a steady jog, circling the yard they needed to seize, until they came to the fence in front of one of the guard towers with a bus fallen on its side just inside the gate. Glenn was the first one to volunteer to run for the other gate, since he had always been the fast one to run for supplies, but Rick refused him and ordered him to work with Maggie and Beth to draw the walkers toward the fence they were standing behind.

"Daryl, go back to the other tower. Carol, you've become a pretty good shot—take your time, we don't have a lot of ammo to waste. Hershel, you and Carl take this tower." Turning to look at Jamie next, the woman was standing with her knife in hand and a pinched look on her face, seeming to be confused about why he hadn't told her where to go. "We'll run for the gate."

"You sure?" Jamie asked as a frown clouded her features. She wasn't stupid to her condition, or what others saw her as. She was weak now.

"Get ready," Rick ordered in complete seriousness, taking a pair of locks and a chain from Glenn so they could close the other gate. "You watch my back, especially when we get to the gate. You got it?"

Blinking her hazel eyes in surprise, Jamie glanced over to where Daryl was already situated on the far guard tower, looking toward them with his crossbow in hands. "Alright," she agreed after a moment.

Lori walked with them over to the gate, her job being that she would close it behind them so nothing got in behind them. "Are you sure about this?" she whispered to Rick as Jamie was checking the ammo on her gun, a couple of paces behind them. "We're trying to help her, Rick, not get her killed."

Meeting Lori's gaze with something akin to desperation in his eyes, the greying man spoke in a low, gruff voice. "Everyone's been treating her like a fragile doll; maybe it's time she got reality scared back into her."

"I think our reality is the problem," Lori hissed back as her fingers hooked into the fence, ready to pull it open for the two of them. Jamie came to stand right behind Rick, ready to follow his lead as soon as he ran from the gate. Lori looked back at her before staring her husband down a moment more, not saying another word, and pulled open the gate with a screech of rusting metal.

Carrying his gun in his hands with the locks over one of his arms, Rick rushed the pathway that led up to the open gate with Jamie hot on his tail. She had become so accustomed to the motions of running and killing that she was able to stab at nearby walkers without even breaking the pattern of her steps behind Rick. He shot only the walkers that would have gotten in his way, leaving the ones to their close flanks to Jamie.

The others at the fences watched them make their way across the yard, taking out walkers from either the towers or along the fence line. Daryl spotted a walker approaching Rick and Jamie from the left while Jamie was pulling her knife from another on the right and fired off the bolt in his crossbow, dropping it just shy of Rick. The man looked up to him and gave a quick nod of thanks before continuing.

Jamie pulled the arrow free on her way by, slipping it into the loop of her belt to return to him later. Her pants were already smeared with blood, so she didn't mind the added stain.

She nearly ran directly into Rick's back when Carol fired off a shot that missed her target and instead imbedded itself in the dirt in front of his feet. Rick stopped so abruptly that Jamie nearly ran him over, but she dodged passed him just in time and was able to take out a walker while he regained his place in front of her.

"Take my back," Rick ordered when they were close enough to the gate, tossing his gun over to her. Her handgun was tucked in her pants, but she caught his firearm and turned to begin picking off all of the walkers in a ten foot radius. She trusted Rick to do his job and didn't look back until he called for his gun, tossing it back to him and drawing her own. Rick let Jamie continue with the walkers and instead focused on the guard tower next to them, hauling open the door and shooting down the walker that was inside. "Come on!"

Retreating backward until within Rick's grip, Jamie let him pull her into the tower and slam the door closed behind them. As soon as Jamie was no longer controlling the swarm of them, walkers flooded against the door, banging and rasping to try and get to the food within.

"Light it up!" Daryl ordered from his perch, circling his hand in the air to motion to those who may not have heard him. Immediately, everyone with a gun drew and began firing through the fences to the remaining walkers.

Across the yard, Jamie and Rick were standing on the perch of their tower, firing off alongside all of the others. Jamie only had her handgun, but her aim was near perfect as she kept one foot up on the railing for support and held the gun in both hands. Rick took out the ones further away, since he was the one with a rifle, and Jamie shot down the walkers that were surrounding their tower. Sometimes even having to shoot straight down.

One by one, each walker fell until there was nothing left moving inside the yard.

"Well," Jamie drawled out as she put the safety back on her gun, looking over to Rick with a shine to her eyes that he hadn't seen since before they had been separated in Atlantic City. "You were right."

Reaching up to grab at the back of Jamie's neck in an affectionate gesture, the woman nodded her head in respect and reached up to grab Rick's shoulder in return, creating a link between them. The warm heat of his palm on the back of her neck was familiar and calming, reminding her of all the times he had kept her and her temper in check over the time they had known each other. As short of a time that may be.

"Let's go, there's still work to do," Rick finally said as he drew back, holding the door open for Jamie politely before they both climbed back down the tower to meet with the others. They wanted to get the field cleared of bodies before nightfall, and it was already edging close to sunset.

_The car reeked of the corpse that Jamie had hauled out of it earlier that evening, the only secure place to stay the night in miles. Abandoned on a side road, the woman inside had blown her brains out with a handgun as she sat in the backseat. After throwing up twice as she was dragging the rotting woman from the car, leaving the doors open in the final hour of daylight to air it out, Jamie found she was just relieved that there wasn't any blood or brain in the front as she fell into the driver's seat._

_The car had no gas, probably one of the reasons the woman had blown her head clean through, so Jamie just left the back windows open the tiniest bit to air them out while she curled herself up in the front as darkness fell over the deserted road._

_There were still mad rushes of people through the towns and main roads, but the side roads and rural areas were practically empty of life. Jamie had thought it best to go the rural route so as to avoid the army and the crowds of people that meant nothing good, but she had no car and her pathetic supply of food was dwindling fast._

_Just as sleep began to tease at the edge of her consciousness, a rasping sounded from outside of the car's back door. Knowing she had locked the door, even as she doubted a walker could open it, the woman tried to assure herself that it wasn't able to get inside the car. Gripping the kitchen knife in her hand more tightly, Jamie made sure not to move in case the dead person could somehow tell she was alive inside the car._

_Holding her breath, the blonde repressed the urge to scream when nails raked down the window above her head. The pitch of the noise was enough to have her shudder, but she refused to acknowledge that anything was there so long as it was a threat against her._

_For several minutes, which felt like long, dragging hours, Jamie remained lying on her side. This wasn't the first dead person she had come across, and there was no chance it was going to be the last. However, just as it had been when she killed her first walker, the woman was left terrified of what_ could _happen. Soon, however, the noises stopped. Even then, Jamie refused to look up. She could no longer hear the rasping of the walker, and it had abandoned her window, but she didn't want to chance it still standing there and knowing she was in the car._

_Perhaps knowing wasn't the right term._

_These things didn't seem to know anything; they were only driven blindly by their need to consume flesh. They didn't have conscious thought or decisions. There could not possibly be any form of humanity left inside of these people if this was how they lived._

Between where T-Dog and Carl were sitting before the fire, Jamie was lying on her back with her head supported by her sleeping bag. She had dozed off after she had finished eating, looking to most of the world completely relaxed and sleeping fitfully.

Carl, however, could see her eyebrows draw down every once in a while in a frown, or her arm muscles jump. It was nothing much, but he wasn't blind to the fact that she was having a nightmare. It was much like the morning they fell asleep in the truck; he had been awoken by one of her arms twitching against his side, almost elbowing him, when she had been having a nightmare.

Rick, Daryl and Carol all trickled in slowly when Beth began to sing, the sound seeming to calm down Jamie as well. Carl noticed when her twitches slowed down before seeming to stop. Her eyes still moved beneath her lids as she dreamed, but she didn't seem nearly as afraid as she had been before. As Maggie joined in the singing, Daryl moved over to lie next to Jamie, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She instinctively leaned into him in her sleep; the gesture was as simple as her head lolling to the side, but that one action spoke volumes. Everyone knew how jumpy the woman had become when sleeping, often ending with someone getting hit when attempting to wake her up.

But never Daryl.

No matter how many times the man touched her or woke her suddenly from her sleep, she would never lash out at him as she had with the others. Even Carl had nearly been kicked once, had she not slammed her foot into the wall beside him instead.

Daryl manoeuvred the poncho that he was wearing to cover Jamie up as well; as hot as they days were, nights still drew in a chill.

_When dawn broke the sky, the walker was nowhere to be seen and the dead woman remained where Jamie had left her on the dirt; untouched. Pulling her pathetic bag of supplies from the car, the blonde woman didn't bother to wait for another walker to come by. She didn't mourn that a woman was dead, or that she had roughly treated her corpse to remove it from the car. Jamie just shook off the sleep that had taken her the night before and made her way down the road._

_A knife in her hand and a loaded gun in her bag, she didn't let her stride falter._


	7. I'll See You In The Morning

After spending the better part of the morning removing walkers from one of the closest prison blocks, the entire group was tired and no one really cared that many of the cells and bunks were covered in blood. Daryl had claimed the top portion of the stairs as theirs, stating that he didn't want to sleep in a cage. Jamie really couldn't have cared less about where she slept and didn't bother speaking up when Daryl had pulled out two mattresses for them to use as their bed.

Sitting on the stairs that led up to the second floor of cells, Jamie leaned her head against the railing as she watched Rick sit himself down on the floor and lean back against the wall. Daryl had already collapsed onto their bed up above, but she knew he was aware of where she was.

Moving down the short couple of steps that separated her from the ground floor, Jamie sluggishly pulled her feet over to Rick and fell to sit beside him. Neither of them said anything in the beginning, just sitting on the cold concrete as they looked across the space before them to the empty cells. There had been dead bodies in a couple of them and any walkers that had been alive were already removed when they first got into the block.

Just as it had been in the past, near when they first met each other, they sat in a companionable silence. They were just…there. Words were not always needed in order to provide comfort; sometimes, it's as simple as the action of reminding someone that they are not alone. They don't have to sit with their burdens, bearing all the weight without anyone to help them.

Rick glanced over to where Jamie was leaning against the wall to his left, her head resting against the cold stone with her eyes closed. He could tell that she was still awake; there was stiffness in her shoulders that told him she couldn't relax just yet. She couldn't sleep.

Reaching over to grasp her knee in a strong grip, Rick felt her jump briefly under his hold before her tired eyes turned to look over at him. Offering a twitch of a smile, she reached down to grasp his wrist with thin fingers, returning his support and assurances.

Rick remembered when he had first seen Jamie; she had saved him from Morgan's threats after his son had taken him out with a shovel. He had thought that she was so strong, so much stronger than Morgan even, just by that first look of her standing in the doorway. There was something about her that screamed of survival, of the soul of a fighter. Jamie's shoulders had always been squared with pride and strength, her face set with determination.

Feeling her cold fingers wrap around his wrist now, Rick almost wanted to cry for her. She was in pain and he could see that something was terrifying her, but she took it silently. Daryl had told him that she didn't do so very often; usually, if something was bothering the blonde woman it was out in the open very quick. But this was different, there was something about her nights—her dreams—that tormented her in way she did not want Daryl or anyone else to know.

Thinking of what he would do if it was Carl or Lori that were so scared, Rick carefully moved an arm around her shoulders and gently guided her to lean down. She didn't resist, as he had been expecting, and soon her head was resting above his knee with her arms tucked to her chest, draped over his lap. Rick softly stroked her hair, along her neck and the cheek he had access to.

In the silence of the prison, Jamie's shoulders began to quake as she let silent tears drip from her eyes.

The soothing touches that Rick was giving her made her feel raw and exposed, her eyes burning with the salt of her tears even as she attempted to push them back and not let them fall. It was no use, however, and she turned her face into his thigh to mask her strengthening sobs. Reaching down for her, Rick wrapped her in his arms as she sniffled and her breath hitched.

Fisting her hands in the material of Rick's pants, Jamie tried to control herself against the onslaught of emotions. All she could think on was how he was still there, how they were all still there, so concerned for her. Even under the belief that she had killed Shane, they didn't kick her out of the group as she had feared in the beginning. For so long, she had been told and acted under the pretense that she had killed Shane, it was beginning to leave a stain on her consciousness.

She was beginning to believe it.

Holding onto her as tightly as he could, Rick didn't know of the turmoil that was going on within Jamie as he simply showed her that he was going to be there.

Then, finally, there was a reprieve.

Jamie fell into a dreamless sleep across Rick's lap, the older of the two never ceasing in his calming motions over her hair or against her neck. He could see that her cheeks were reddened from her crying, glistening with tears, and her lips were slightly swollen because she had been biting at them to try and keep herself silent. But she was finally at peace, with no dreams to haunt her.

On the second floor of the block, Daryl watched from his perch as the tenseness of his shoulders began to subside once he saw Jamie stop crying. Once she fell asleep. Just barely visible in the door of her cell, Lori also stood as she watched over the two. Her hand rested on her overgrown stomach and she felt her heart break at the condition of the woman in her husband's arms.

She knew that it was her initial reaction to Jamie's admittance of Shane's death was the one that triggered everyone else's. Lori knew that she was to blame for Jamie losing all those who trusted her.

Looking to where Daryl was discretely watching the two, watching Jamie, she wondered. Lori wondered how she  _ever_  could have let herself believe that Jamie had cheated on him, had ever done such a thing as be the 'other woman'. Much too morally strong and in love to do such a thing, it was now a horrifying reality that Lori had accused her of it. Blinded by her own fear of losing Rick, she had jumped for the first chance to lay distrust on Rick, and Jamie had been heartbreakingly caught in the middle.

Jamie had been sweet to her, and to Carl. But Lori hadn't been able to push past her insecurities and she lost the friend that Jamie had steadily been becoming. It was moments that she was witnessing now that had caused the initial burn of jealousy, but they were only friends. They were friends that were doing all they could to assure the other and calm them.

Feeling the baby kick against her hand on her stomach, Lori looked away from the two on the bottom floor and centered her attention back on her stomach.

The next day, Jamie seemed less subdued than she had been for the past couple of weeks. She spoke up more often, mostly only when Rick had brought up something had she wanted to offer her opinion to. She stuck close with Daryl, but now and again she wandered to speak with T-Dog, or help Carol clean off some of the equipment they had taken off the dead guards. There was still redness in her eyes from crying, but no one commented on it. After Rick had taken her up to Daryl, she'd slept through the night without any dreams. She had actually _rested_.

"That's just…" Jamie let her words trail off as she help up one of the armored black gloves, pinched between her index finger and thumb. Coming from within the glove was a thick, yellowish slime that let off a foul odour of death. Trying not to breathe it in, Jamie gave off a cough and dropped it back onto the pile of collected armor from outside. "Nope."

"Come on, it's protection," Carol tried to insist, but the look on the blonde's face told her that there was no chance she was going to change her mind on the matter. She's rather be bitten than wear one of those gloves. "Jamie."

" _I'm_  gunna bite you if you try and make me wear that," was Carol's only answer from the disgusted woman as she passed a helmet to Daryl, who had been sneaking around her shoulder trying to get a look at the slime. He winced when some poured from the helmet onto his hands, glancing at the blonde who was giving him a deadpan stare.

Rick watched her from where he had been going through the equipment on the table, stacking different weapons that they could use in different places. They even had flash grenades. "It'll stop you from getting bit," he pointed out.

"I've survived this long without wearing a dead guy's  _skin_ , thank you," she retorted before picking up one of the nightsticks and taking a mock swing at the back of Daryl's head. Not even flinching, he just looked between her and the nightstick before taking a step closer to her and kissing her on the lips quickly. Rick realized, as he watched Jamie's face brighten with a smile, that Daryl had just  _bribed_  the woman with a kiss so she wouldn't playfully hit him.

After going through the gear and selecting the things that they could use, the group began to gather themselves in preparation for the tunnels. They were dark and there was a lot that could go wrong, so they needed to be as prepared as possible. Jamie was carrying her knife and one of the nightsticks as well as a flashlight that was bound to die any day.

"Here, carry this for me," Daryl demanded as he stepped up behind her and slid a handgun in the back of her pants belt. She adjusted it slightly after his hands moved away, before nodding her head. He had posed it almost as a favour of holding his gun for him, but she knew that it actually meant he wanted her to have a gun on her just in case.

"You lot be careful in there," Carol warned as she glanced around the group. Maggie and Jamie were the only two women that were going into the tunnels with the men—Carl had wanted to come as well, but Rick had him stay behind with orders to keep the rest of the group safe if anything happened.

"Dark, decrepit tunnels full of dead bodies and rats," Jamie mumbled as she tugged the laces of her boots to be sure none of them came loose. "A walk in the park," she finished with a grin over to Carol before she swatted Daryl playfully on the arm. "Right, honey?"

"Stop," Daryl ordered. Jamie had been teasing him ever since she found out about Carol teasing him with sexual suggestions and innuendoes there first night in the yard. When Carol had told her about how Daryl was climbing from the bus and said 'I'll go down first', which was answered by Carol with 'even better' the water that Jamie had been drinking came out of her nose when she laughed.

It had felt great, actually, since she rarely got a good laugh anymore. The deep ache in her stomach as she gasped for air, cheeks red and eyes watering from the force of her giggles, she had never felt better.

Her nightstick was kept in her hands, but Jamie made sure that her knife was easily accessible when they unlocked the door keeping them from the dark tunnels. Flashing her light across the floor at the bodies that were littered all around, she held still in her place until the rest of the group had stepped in on either side of her.

No one spoke, knowing that if there were walkers down there then the sounds would draw them in like flies to honey. Stepping carefully and listening even more so, they didn't leave a single corner unchecked as they manoeuvred along the route they had selected. To be sure they took the same hallways back, Glenn had been given the task of spray-painting arrows on the walls, pointing back toward their block.

Tensions were high and nerves were sizzling, leaving everyone on edge. Jamie jumped from behind Daryl when Maggie yelped in surprise, only to look over and see that Glenn had accidentally startled her when she ran into him upon leaving a cell.

Swallowing thickly, Jamie watched Rick take the lead of the group as she fell in step next to the other woman there. She had that same feeling in her stomach from Atlanta, when she and Rick had rode in on a horse to try and find some kind of refugee camp for survivors. Her intestines felt twisted around and pulled tight, leaving her nauseous and trembling with an edgy fear that made her as equally jumpy as Maggie was.

If she ended up bumping into something there was a sure chance of her screaming. Possible of her high-tailing it back down the tunnels depending on what she ran into.

Praying to a God she had long since lost her faith in, Jamie hoped that this bad feeling didn't come to the same end as it had in Atlanta.

Stepping back as Glenn painted on another arrow at the corner they had just turned, the woman's hand was hovering over her knife while the other kept her nightstick down near her side. She couldn't raise it, knowing that if even Daryl bumped her accidentally she might take a swing at him.

Glenn gave a muffled curse behind her when he stumbled over a dead body, having not been paying close enough attention. Jamie glanced back at him, her pupils constricting at the light that shined in her eyes. Baring her teeth in a gesture that looked like a snarl, she didn't bother making the 'shhh' sound before she turned her eyes back front.

In time for Rick and Daryl to jump back from the hallways they were about to step into.

"Go back, go back!" Rick ordered, drawing everyone to begin backing away without actually facing away from the hall.

However, when they noticed that it was an entire group of walkers making their way forward, the group turned to make a rush back the way they had come. Maggie and Glenn ran at the front of the redirected group, following the arrows that had been put up on the walls.

"Come on," Jamie ordered when she saw that Hershel had stumbled and T-Dog stopped to help him.

Maggie's scream warned them of another swarm of walkers back in the other direction, leaving them to turn into a side hallway that they had briefly checked in passing.

With her knife drawn and heart galloping like a race horse, Jamie spun the corner fast enough that her feet skid for a moment before she righted herself and kept going, following after the other two while the rest of the group trailed in behind them. Giving a short shriek of fright when she was cut off from the others by walkers, she was left to run back the way they had come, taking down a walker in the process, before she threw herself into a cell and closed the bars. Daryl had the keys, but she was able to use her belt to tie the bars together before ducking out of sight and hoping they didn't smell her.

Squishing her body into the corner, she held her breath to stay as quiet as possible.

Only when the sound of the groaning walkers had passed did Jamie move back into view and pull her belt free from the bars. She peered carefully down the halls with her light as she slipped the leather back into the loops around her waist.

"Maggie? Glenn?" Hershel's call echoed through the emptied halls and brought a faint relief to her racing heart.

Whistling a note that went high, then low, the woman waited a moment before it was answered by another. She and Daryl had used it before while they were hunting and she was relieved to know that he recognized it. Hurrying toward the sound, she pulled her knife and carefully flicked the light of her flashlight down the halls to make sure she wasn't caught off guard.

Nearly shrieking in surprise, the blonde jumped noticeably when she turned a corner to run into Rick, shining her light in his face before she turned away to gasp through her panic.

"You alright?" Rick asked, shining his light across her form for any sign that she was bitten or otherwise hurt.

"I'm fine," she assured, nodding to Daryl when he appeared next to the older man. "I'm fine," she repeated while blinking against the light that he directed at her face.

"Have you see Maggie and Glenn?"

"I got cut off from them," she whispered, glancing backward to be sure that nothing was lurking in the dark and could sneak up on her. Before she had time to say more, the pained—terrified—screams of a man reached their ears and Jamie did a split second check of who was present as she took off with the others in the direction of the noise.

It was either Glenn or Hershel, but with what she could tell from the screams she knew that it had to be Hershel.

The first to round the corner, Rick took quick aim and fired off a single shot at the walker that lay hunched against the hall, the tendon in the back of Hershel's leg stretching across its bottom jaw. The man lay on his stomach, gasping in agony, as his leg was released. Blood was flowing freely from the deep tear in his leg, and Maggie cried out in disbelief as she and Glenn emerged from around the corner.

"Oh, shit," Jamie cursed loudly as she lifted her light toward the end of the hall. The walkers had heard their commotion and turned back around. Stumbling their way around the corner, Daryl and Jamie knew they couldn't drag an injured party and take them on with the numbers against them.

"They're behind us!" T-Dog warned as Glenn and Rick hefted Hershel up between them. The only tunnel left they could use was the one Glenn and Maggie had emerged from, so they took off as fast as they could down that hall, Daryl bringing up the rear. He was the only one with a quiet weapon that would cause damage from a distance. Jamie, reluctant to leave him without backup, kept a couple of yards ahead of him but refused to leave too much of a gap.

"T-Dog, get the door!" Rick yelled over Hershel's pained cries, the man hobbling on his one good leg as his weight was being supported the best they could.

T-Dog didn't hesitate to swing at the door with the axe he had been using as his weapon of choice, cutting through a pair of handcuffs that were keeping the door sealed.

All together, the group bundled themselves into the room. It was large and littered with tables, telling them that they had found the cafeteria. T-Dog and Daryl stayed back to keep the door closed while the rest did what they could to tend to Hershel. Jamie spun on her heel as she, for the second time, pulled her belt free of its loops and rushed up to the door that the men were barely keeping closed against the horde of walkers pushing on the other side.

"Careful," Daryl grunted as the door he was pressed against pushed back, forcing him to slam his shoulder into the metal.

Jamie didn't bother to think on the warning and began looping her belt from one handle to the other, pulling it taut until she was able to buckle the two ends together between the handles. T-Dog and Daryl hesitantly backed away from the doors, watching to make sure that the belt and handles would hold them shut.

"We're good," she assured, before turning to focus on where Rick was using his belt to block the circulation in Hershel's bleeding leg, just above his knee. "T-Dog, keep on those doors. Make sure they hold!" she ordered as she rushed over to do what she could to help. As she was still wearing a thin over shirt, she quickly shucked it off and tossed to Glenn, who was trying to find materials to stop the blood flow.

"Hold him still," Rick ordered as he looked at the group. Jamie didn't see him reach for the hatchet he had brought until he was swinging it down on Hershel's leg, just below his knee. Jerking back in surprise before her stomach heaved, causing her to gag as she supressed the urge to vomit, the blonde turned her attention to help them keep Hershel as still as possible.

As Rick continued to swing down on the older man's leg, Hershel slowly stopped struggling and soon went quiet in Maggie's arms.

Only when Jamie finally heard the hatchet hit the cement beneath their knees did she chance a glance over to the stump of Hershel's leg. Repressing the urge to lose her lunch, the blonde quickly snatched the rags and her shirt back from Glenn and moved to the gushing limb.

"We've got to stop the bleeding," she shouted at Rick when he was left only to stare at her in disgust at his own actions. Now that the deed was done, he was in shock and found his entire body going slack at the realization of his actions. "Rick!" she snapped again. He looked as pale as paper and was beginning to tremble faintly.

"What…what do we-"

Rick couldn't find the words to use, looking down at the red seeping into the clothes that Jamie was trying to tie to the end of Hershel's knee. Glancing over at Daryl, he met his blue eyes before the man gave an order in a low voice.

"Duck."

Pushing Jamie down to do the same, Rick watched as Daryl rose up to his full height with his crossbow raised. The flashlight that they had taped to it illuminated what had caught his attention. In the prison kitchen, on the other side of a fence, stood a small group of men dressed in prison blue.

"Holy shit," one of the men muttered as he looked at them, reaching forward to link his fingers into the fence.

Jamie's head shot up at the new voice, looking away from the blood on her hands, and stared with a slack jaw at the surviving inmates. Rick looked over as well, but Daryl had the situation covered as he walked around the cluster of his friends to get a better view of the people behind the fence that led to the kitchen.

"Keep working," Rick encouraged Jamie as she straightened herself up and continued to tie rags tightly around the stump of Hershel's thigh. Mostly she was focusing on cutting off any blood flow that Rick's belt hadn't done already.

"Who the hell are you?" Daryl was demanding from behind Rick, but Jamie focused on the elder man that was lying unconscious on the ground. All she could see was blood, it was on the floor, her clothes and her hands, covering everything in sickening red.

"We have to go back or he'll bleed out," Jamie warned Rick, her voice cracking and sounding dry. Daryl kept his bow pointed at the men in the kitchen as he ordered them out while Rick and Jamie were ordering Maggie and Glenn into their positions. T-Dog was still by the door, keeping an eye on the flimsy belt that was keeping the doors closed, while he was helping Daryl keep an eye on the new men.

Jamie heard when Daryl ordered one of the men to be easy and glanced up long enough to see a gun being drawn by a Hispanic looking man. "I got this," Rick told her as he too looked back briefly. "We've got this, help Daryl." He knew that Jamie wouldn't be able to focus now, knowing there was a chance that Daryl had a gun aimed at him.

Jamie didn't hesitate after his words and rose back to her full height, pulling out the black handgun that Daryl had slipped into her belt earlier. Popping the safety and cocking it back to load a bullet into the chamber, she stepped carefully around where Glenn was kneeling on the ground, toward T-Dog. Her gun settled on the Hispanic man with the barrel aimed at his head.

If she had to kill him, she wasn't going to waste a shot in his heart just to put another in his head later.

"Put down the gun," she ordered in a deadly calm tone, no longer cracking from the strain of trying to keep Hershel from bleeding everywhere.

"Jamie, we need something to carry him back!" Rick was shouting over his shoulder. Jamie looked briefly around the cafeteria before spotting a wheeling cart in the kitchen, stocked with utensils.

"Daryl, I need to get in there," she said in a lower voice, glancing at her fiancé. He didn't have to ask where she meant; she'd only have told him something like that if it meant getting passed the men in the way first.

Taking a threatening step forward, Daryl aimed the bolt in his crossbow right between the eyes of the apparent ringleader. "Step aside," he ordered, his voice sounding husky with the stress the group was under. Still flashing his gun around, the man seemed to understand not to test Daryl and took a large step back, away from the doorway he had exited through. The others behind him did the same, giving Jamie her chance.

She didn't look back or take it slow as she immediately pushed the cart over, dumping everything that had been on its surface onto the dirty floors. Metal clattered loudly as it hit the cement, but Jamie didn't give it a second thought as she righted the metal cart and pushed it back out the doorway, her gun still in one hand.

"Get him up!" she yelled at Rick and Glenn as they slipped themselves under Hershel's arms, lifting the unconscious man from the floor.

Blood sprayed out from the end of Hershel's severed leg, bits of flesh still hanging off of it, as he was swung up onto the cart. Jamie was briefly reminded of JAWS before she focused her attention on the doors. T-Dog pressed his weight against them as Jamie undid and unwound her belt from the handles, wrapping it around her hand instead.

"Now!"

Following T-Dog's order, Jamie stepped back and let the doors release. The first walker to stumble through was a man in a guard's uniform, helmet and all. T-Dog used the crowbar in his hand to stab upward from the underside of his jaw, removing him from their path. Picking up her discarded nightstick, Jamie took down the second with one well aimed blow to the head, cracking open the man's skull completely.

"Daryl," Rick was calling, the last of them in the room. Daryl kept his crossbow trained on the group, mainly the man with the gun, and walked backwards to follow them out. He didn't worry about walkers, trusting that Jamie had his back. He was right, too, as she was still standing in the doorway with her gun drawn to the group as well, glancing now and then into the hallway.

Not bothering to close the door or even check for other walkers, they rushed down the tunnels the way that they had first come.

The only evidence left of them in the kitchen was the blood and torn up calf sitting in a pool of blood, and a group of shocked men left standing outside of the kitchen.


	8. Mask of Innocence

Knowing that Daryl would want her away from the prisoners that had followed them, Jamie joined the mass of people in Hershel's cell. She was kneeling next to the bed, helping Carol put pressure on his leg while the others were scrambling to get whatever they could in order to stop the bleeding. The sheets that had been pressed against the stump were already soaked through and there were no other medical supplies with them.

"Jamie, give me that belt," Carol demanded when she spotted Jamie's belt still wrapped around her wrist after she had opened the cafeteria doors. Moving away only long enough to remove the leather, she immediately returned to putting pressure on Hershel's leg as she silently prayed for the bleeding to  _stop_.

Glancing back at the sound of unfamiliar voices, Jamie realized that the prisoners would be in the outer room by now. T-Dog and Daryl were out there and only one man had a weapon, so she was confident that they would be okay.

"You're shaking," Carol commented when she spotted the small quaking of Jamie's arms.

"It's been a very stressful day," Jamie defended herself, glancing into Carol's motherly eyes. "I'm fine. Focus on saving Hershel."

So they did. Even with the very obvious argument going on outside of the cellblock, they kept their attention on Hershel and whether or not the bleeding as slowing down. Soon, it went quiet. Carl reported that they had gone outside because the survivors didn't understand what was going on. Everyone seemed to breathe a little easier knowing that a group of convicts weren't right outside the door, but it was still an unsettling knowledge that they knew they were there.

"What about those men?" Lori asked her as she stood against the wall, watching Hershel carefully.

"I don't like 'em," Jamie answered immediately as she and Carol traded places, letting Jamie rest her hands for a moment as she checked the tightness of the belts. "One of them has a gun; I'm guessing he's their little leader. He's pulled it on us as soon as Daryl mentioned Hershel being bitten."

"You think they're dangerous?" Carol asked calmly, glancing at the pale woman's face.

"I think he's dangerous, the other guys still just seemed to be in shock," Jamie explained as she flexed her fingers before turning toward Hershel's head. Leaning over the man, she listened to his breathing for a moment before taking his wrist and feeling his pulse.

"It's slowing down," Carol interrupted, lifting away the saturated towel in exchange for a dry one.

It felt like hours passed before Rick and T-Dog returned to the block carrying bags and boxes of food. Jamie's stomach growled against her will at the sound of T-Dog telling what was in the cans he was carrying, getting a look from Carol when she heard it. Ignoring her stare, Jamie lifted herself from next to the bed and straightened herself to crack her legs and back.

"Where's Daryl?" she asked briefly when Rick was passing by, arms full of bags of corn.

"Keeping an eye on our new friends," he assured calmly, getting a hesitant nod from Jamie. There was a look in Rick's eyes that unnerved her. She knew something must have happened while they were gone, more than likely it included the Hispanic with the gun, so fond of waving that damn thing around.

"He'll be fine," Lori tried to assure as well, seeing that she was just as worried as she had been before.

"I trust Daryl to keep himself safe, but those men…that one man," she corrected, looking down at her bloody hands. "I doubt that's the first time he's held a gun, or the first time he's threatened to take a life. His eyes tell his secrets." Looking to Lori, her brown eyes appeared mildly unsettled, Jamie's face was tense and her eyes calculatingly cold. "He's got skeletons in his closet."

Rick came back a couple of minutes later and collected the blonde to come with him. They needed to get some weapons, apparently, to give to the survivors. They were going to clear a cellblock for them so that they would be staying away from the rest of their group. "Anything that they could use: crowbars, pipes, nightsticks. Whatever you can find."

Jamie went through some of their things to collect what they never really used whenever they ran into walkers. There was a crowbar that Lori had once used but stopped when her stomach became too big; it was smaller than T-Dog's but just as sturdy.

Handing off the crowbar and a sturdy lead pipe to Rick, he stopped her before she could turn to leave. "I want your help in there," he began in a low voice. "Daryl's not too happy, but he agrees that you're the best person to give us a hand. The three of us can't keep an eye on all of them." Rick looked like he wanted to continue, but he was hesitating.

"But?"

"But they're men that have been in prison for god knows how long before the outbreak, and ten months after that. You're a beautiful woman, Jamie, and I know you can take care of yourself but having them near you just doesn't sit right with me," Rick explained after a pause. "If any of them try anything,  _anything,_  I want you to take them down, alright?"

Jamie nodded in understanding as her hazel eyes hardened with resolve. If the men tried anything on her, they couldn't be trusted around someone as young as Beth or as defenseless as Lori. They refused to hand out any second chances on something as serious as this. In a way, Jamie realized that she was being used as a sort of test subject, but she didn't mind too much. Better her than someone else in the group.

"You have my word," she assured, reaching up to grip his shoulder in a strong hand. It was very different from the night before, when she had been grasping at the material of his pants as she cried. Now, it was strong and sure.

She wasn't shaking anymore.

"Go stock up on your ammo, I'll take these out there. Call for Daryl to let you out when you're ready," Rick finished, stepping back from her and moving off to the barred door.

Quickly finding Daryl's bag up on the second floor, Jamie slipped another clip of ammo into her back pocket and checked that the holster for her knife was secure on her thigh. "Are you sure you should be going with them?" Beth called from the doorway of Hershel's cell when she passed it.

Pausing in her steps, Jamie looked back at the smaller, younger blonde. "I've gotta help keep you guys safe," she explained. "Maggie and Glenn are staying here with your dad, so I'm gunna help them keep these men away from us."

"What if they try to hurt you?" Beth continued, snatching Jamie's wrist before she could turn to walk away. "Will you…will you kill them?"

Looking down into Beth's young, innocent eyes, Jamie felt that she should lie to the girl. Tell her that she wouldn't kill them, that she couldn't kill another human being. Even if  _she_  knew that it was Rick who had killed Shane, everyone else ignorant to that fact, she was set in her decision that if one of those men tread into any sexual territory with her, she'd first put them in their place.

Then she'd kill them.

There were no second chances anymore.

"Yes," Jamie answered truthfully. "If these men act in any way that I think could put you, your sister, or anyone else here in danger…I'll put them down."

Turning with the intent to leave for the second time, Jamie's wrist was tugged on once more. Facing Beth again, the blonde girl was staring down at the ground for a moment before stepping forward abruptly and wrapping her arms around Jamie's torso. The woman was so surprised by the action she didn't move her arms from her sides to return the hug right away. Only when it finally registered what Beth was doing did she finally place her hands on the girl's back, unsure what to do.

"Thank you," Beth breathed against her collarbone. "I…I know that you only ever try to keep us safe. So, thank you."

Closing her eyes and finally hugging Beth back, holding onto her tightly, Jamie felt as if one of her many burdens had been lifted. "Thank you," she whispered against Beth's hair.

Tugging herself free from the girl's arms, she didn't wait to be called back a third time and instead marched for the barred door that led to the cellblock. Whistling the note that Daryl knew, the woman waited for her fiancé to step around the corner with the keys in his hand.

He didn't look pleased as he showed himself, reaching through the bars to unlock the door. "I don't like this," he grumbled as he opened the door for her. His eyes looked her over, seeing that even as thin as she had become there was still an imposing appearance to her with her knife and gun, as well as the scars she had attained through the year.

"I know," Jamie nodded, reaching forward to pull him into a brief kiss. "I've got your back, and I know you have mine."

"If he so much as looks at you, I'm putting an arrow up his ass," Daryl promised as he placed another kiss on her lips before they stepped through the threshold and let Carl lock the door behind them. He whispered them a good luck as he watched them turn the corner to the main room, returning to the group of survivors.

Even though Jamie had been there when they were in the cafeteria, the group seemed surprised at a woman in the room.

"You're shitting me, right?" the Hispanic asked as soon as he spotted her, glancing over to Rick for confirmation. "What's she gunna do? Scream the bastards away?"

"She's killed more walkers than you've even seen," T-Dog answered for Rick.

The prisoner just let out a huff of a laugh, shaking his head in amusement. Jamie sneered at the appearance of his greasy black hair, pulled back in a half pony-tail. "What's your name, sweetheart?" he asked as he nodded in her direction, giving her a once over just as Daryl had done in the doorway. She knew that it was for a very different reason and refrained from flipping him off. _Barely_.

"Dixon," she answered in a cold tone. Rick recognized that tone; it was the same one she had used when they were stuck in the bar with the two assholes trying to find their camp.

T-Dog turned his face away to hide his grin of amusement while Rick and Daryl let blatant smirks touch their lips. "We'll go in two-by-two," Rick continued where they had left off, letting Jamie and Daryl step up beside him so they could get in on the rest of the plan. "Daryl will run point with T, and Jay and I will bring up the rear."

Rick had already cleared it with Daryl that Jamie could be with him, following behind the men so that they weren't following her.

"Stay tight, hold formation, no matter how close the walkers get," Rick finished seriously. "Anyone breaks ranks and we can all go down, anyone runs off and he can get mistaken for a walker, end up with an axe to the head."

"That's where you aim," Daryl elaborated. "These things only go down with a headshot."

The dark haired ringleader laughed again. "You ain't gotta tell us how to take out a man," he snorted out.

"That would probably be true, if these things were men. But they're not," Jamie interrupted. "You can stab it as many times as you want, as you  _can_ , but so long as it's not a headshot it won't stop. They'll just keep coming. Cut off limbs, hell you can even cut off the head and it'll still be trying to bite you."

"You gotta be fucking joking," one of the black men said as he looked at her with a disturbed face.

Shaking her head, Jamie leaned her side against Daryl. "It's the brain. Hit the brain and they go down."

"That's all you have to remember," Rick added on as he pointed at her, punctuating what she had just said. "Go for the brain."

"I'm not taking orders from some cunt-"

All three of the men present with her opened their mouths to defend Jamie, but before they could speak a word the blonde had her gun out and cocked with a bullet in the chamber. Her arm was steady as she aimed directly at the man's left eye socket. Her hazels eyes were like cold gold, unrelenting.

"That can easily be fixed," she commented in a tone that sounded bored. "Can't take orders when you're dead."

"Those are your options," Rick supported, relaxing back after the initial anger at the man's words. Jamie could clearly still handle herself. He'd wanted to believe that the past year hadn't changed her that much; even if it came through by her threatening someone at gunpoint, he was relieved to see she still had that silent power about her that he'd seen the first night he met her.

The man sneered back at her, but relented. He didn't even have the chance to draw his gun on her in return—not with hers already trained at his eye and three aggressively protective men behind her.

The guys at the table collected their weapons, Jamie snatching her nightstick from where she had abandoned it earlier, and turned toward the doors. Daryl had the keys, standing first at the entrance, with T-Dog at his side. Jamie and Rick stood at the back of the group, knowing that they would be going in last to bring up the rear as decided. Keeping her gun tucked away, her knife in its sheath, Jamie was ready with her nightstick instead.

Holding a small penlight between her lips and teeth, Jamie's hands were free to use both on the nightstick as she and Rick carefully kept track of all the prisoners in front of them. They kept silent in the back, but the prisoners didn't seem to understand the importance as they constantly complained about something or another. They were loud and the hallways echoed each noise they made like gunshots.

When something made a sound up ahead, the redheaded man of the group called out.

"It's coming!"

Jamie's entire body locked up at the loud shout, feeling the urge to smack him over the head with her nightstick as the others hushed him. This was not some kind of safety drill in school when the teachers tell a student to be quiet; make a sound and you die. How hard was that to understand?

"Stupid fucking-" she grumbled from around her penlight, shaking her head and forcing herself to keep her focus. Turning in a full circle with slow steps, she made sure to survey the entire tunnel before looking ahead once more.

They all drew to a stop when Daryl signaled, hearing the familiar rasping of a walker. He kept his hand up, telling them not to move as he tried to gauge how many walkers there were. For all they knew the entire ahead tunnel was full of them. However, the men waited for all of two seconds before they let out battle cries and charged forward, passing a bewildered Daryl that flinched back against the wall to avoid getting dragged along.

Jamie and Rick watched from the back, dumbstruck at the reaction.

"They're fuckin' retarded," Jamie muttered. Not one of the four could believe that anyone could be so foolish. They had all dealt with a lot of people and walkers over the time they knew each other, but they had never seen someone act to recklessly before.

There was a flurry of movement between walkers and prisoners that was not so hard to distinguish. Jamie actually felt embarrassed on their behalf as she watched one of the black men hold a walker's arms from behind while the other two beat on it, never going for the head. The other two were kicking at a walker on the ground like it was a contest to get candy out of it. They were hitting the walkers as though they were still alive, trying to fight back.

Discretely, the three men kept Jamie boxed safely in the center of them all.

When the prisoners finally drew back after they had, rather brutally, killed the walkers that had rounded the corner, they continued on toward the block next door. Jamie and Rick were much more cautious in the back after having witnessed what the men were capable of doing. One had even pulled a shiv hidden in his sock, which unsettled Rick to realize he hadn't been aware of a concealed weapon. Jamie was concerned that Daryl and T-Dog might get caught in an assault of the prisoners went off as they had before.

The next time they encountered a group of walkers, Rick scolded the prisoners into staying in the proper formation, calling their previous act of violence a prison riot. It wasn't far off. However, as tight of a formation as they tried to keep, the amount of walkers was much greater this time than the first and they quickly had to break into separate groups to take down the walkers. Jamie kept the nightstick in one hand, but she had her knife out in the other.

Trying to keep an eye on her group was almost impossible, so she instead focused on not letting the walkers around her get in a bite. She was able to keep them away from her person, pushing them against the walls to keep them still and throwing her knife in their eye socket, straight into the brain. She had learned a long time ago that it was easier to do than try and pull a weapon back out from the skull bone.

She caught sight of one of the men inching backward, clearly frightened by the walkers. Before she even had the chance to try and help him there were other walkers swarming into her path. The man had a hammer, so she had to hope he could muster up enough courage to use it.

Kicking a walker away when it tried to swipe at her, she nearly threw it into the Hispanic man with the gun. The look that he sent her froze the blood in her veins for a second before she brought the nightstick up and caught the walker under the jaw, throwing it down and letting her drive her knife into the head.

Jamie ducked when she saw Rick coming, just in time for his machete to go over her head and take down a walker that had gotten in behind her. Before she had even straightened up the pained cries of one of the prisoners permeated the air, just before several gunshots echoed through the halls.

Rick was left to stare over at the Hispanic as he wondered; Jamie had been standing directly in front of the walker he had shot down, but she had been forced to duck when he went after the walker behind her.

Was he trying to shoot her? Or did he draw the gun after she had ducked?

Rising to her full height as she looked back at the walker in time to see it fall, Jamie's eyes met Rick's through the dim light in the tunnel. It was one concern they would remember, but they had something more important to focus on at the moment. Turning to the black man that been crying out, reaching over to tug on his uniform to turn him. He did so unwillingly, to reveal a long gash down his shoulder blade. It looked like it had been caused by something sharp, like a knife, but since only a walker had been behind him she realized that it had to have been either nails or bone.

Rick shone his light on it to get a better look as the others made their way around, circling them. Daryl was a lingering presence behind Jamie, calming her down after the fight.

"I don't feel anything, I swear!"

"It doesn't set in immediately. It can take hours before the infections sets in, days before it kills you," Jamie explained, feeling sympathy swell up in her chest at the thought of what would become of him. It wasn't a bite, but he had been scratched by a sharp bone on the wrist of a walker. "There's no way that isn't infected-"

"But I'm telling you I don't feel anything!"

"I'm sorry, man-" Rick tried to assure, but there wasn't much that could be done when you're trying to help a man realize that he's going to die. Painfully.

"I can keep fighting!"

"You cut that old guys leg off to save his life-"

"Look at where the bite is-"

"Guys!" the large man yelled as he tried to get them to stop speaking as though he was going to die. "I'm fine!" he shouted again before he took a breath and repeated "I'm fine" in a calmer voice as he looked at Rick. "Just look at me, I'm not changing into one of those things!"

Jamie wanted to bite her tongue, but couldn't. "It could take days, but I'll happen. You have a walker's blood inside of you now. It cut you with bone."

"Look, man, there has to be something we could do. Maybe we should just lock him up!" one of the other man proposed as he prevented Jamie from continuing. She didn't want to seem like the bitch of the group, but she wanted to be sure that these men knew the full truth about what they were facing.

"Yea, quarantine him."

Rick looked over to Jamie and Daryl, neither able to give much support on any idea. Jamie was for the quarantine, personally. But at the same time it would be just like Jim. Lock someone up and let them slowly ride out the pain and die. It wouldn't help him in any way.

Before they could make a decision on what they would do, the ringleader took care of the problem. Throwing his crowbar into the back of his head, the infected man went down with a loud grunt of agony. Daryl immediately wrapped a protective arm around Jamie and tugged her back, nearly off of her feet, while he lifted his crossbow back up.

The man continued to beat down with his crowbar, blood beginning to fly everywhere from the motions. It sprayed him, the walls, and everyone that was close enough. Jamie watched in horror as the terrified man was brutally beaten to death by one of his own comrades. There was nothing that she could do now, but there was a nauseating tug in her stomach that urged her. It was like her body wanted to save him, but her mind was trying to tell it that there was nothing more to do.

Daryl turned her away when he felt Jamie's body give a large shudder, letting her face the wall while he kept her close to his body, eyes on the man.

Only when the sound of cracking bone on metal finally stopped did Jamie look back.

Blood dripped from the man's hair and chin, dripping along the rest of his body. He didn't show an ounce of remorse as he met Rick's eyes, panting with exertion.

Daryl wouldn't let Jamie too far from him after that, keeping her close to him with his eyes on the ringleader. She didn't mind at all, feeling the security that came with Daryl so close to her. Rick was a couple of paces ahead of them, his hand lingering permanently over his gun. He hadn't wanted to draw it the entire time they were in the tunnels, but he was too cautious now to chance it.

"He makes one move," Rick had said when they were leaving the gore filled hallway.

"Just give me a signal," was Daryl simple response.

They made it to the laundry room before long, the room surprisingly clear of any dead bodies. They didn't take much time with looking around and instead went straight for the other door that they needed to take to get to the next cell block. Keeping her knife in her hand, Jamie almost wished that she was stupid enough to draw her gun.

Standing in front of the double doors, Rick tossed the ring of keys at the Hispanic.

"I ain't opening that," he declined immediately.

"Yes you are," Rick replied calmly. "Did you want this cell block? You're gunna open that door—just the one, not both of them. We need to control this."

Bending to pick up the keys, the Hispanic looked back at the smallest man in their group, holding a bloody baseball bat. His dark eyes roved over to where Jamie was standing with Rick and T-Dog, her knife in front of her and glistening with blood.

Looking away again, the man moved up to the doors while everyone else got themselves ready. Jamie's attention was solely on the doors and what could come through them, but she was acutely aware of Daryl over her left shoulder and Rick a pace to her right. The sheriff himself was focusing on everyone in the room, taking in the place of each convict and where they stood in regards to his friends.

"You bitches ready?" the man asked as he paused in opening the door, glancing right toward Jamie to meet the cold golden hazel of her eyes.

He tugged on it once, but nothing happened. Trying a second time, there was the same result. Jamie's hands tensed on her weapons until the tendons on her knuckles were popping out white, before the third pull opened  _both_  doors. The flood of walkers was immediate and the man rushed backward to escape the fray, moving back toward where Daryl was guarding Jamie's flank.

"I said one door!" Rick shouted as he took the first swing at a walker.

"Shit happens!"

It was a melee of blood and corpses as the group fended off the walkers, dropping guards and prisoners alike. T-Dog blocked a walker from biting at him in time for Jamie to crack it over the head with her nightstick, shattering its skull and spraying everything that was inside over the floor and wall. Neither paused to think on it as they moved to the next target.

Thrusting her knife up into the underside of a walkers jaw, the blonde woman turned her eyes in time to see Rick dodge a swipe of the Hispanic's crowbar. Her brows furrowed as she spotted the contempt on Rick's face. Keeping her eyes on him, she only had to watch a moment more as the man faked a hit on a walker before pushing it into Rick, knocking him and the still biting corpse to the ground.

"Rick!" she shouted, swinging out with her nightstick in defense of herself as she rushed over to haul the body off of her friend, simultaneously digging her knife into the side of its head.

She had moved so quickly, Rick was almost dizzied with how fast she had freed him of both the threat and the weight. Holding out a hand to him, Rick gladly accepted. Meeting her eyes as she was hefting him back onto his feet, the older of the two could see the cold hatred in her eyes. It was something he had never seen before, even after what Shane had done back on Hershel's farm.

By the time they turned toward the others, the walkers were all down.

Rick looked to the dark haired man that had tried to kill him, twice.

"He was comin' at me, bro," he defended, seeing the look on Rick's face. His jaw was tense and his usually light blue eyes held an acute darkness that Jamie had seen once before.

"Yea, I get it," Rick said dryly. "Shit happens."

Everyone was still for a moment, watching the two in the center of the room. Jamie, standing just behind Rick, didn't take her eyes off of the man in front of them. His eyes flicked over Rick's shoulder to her, giving Rick the opportunity he was looking for. Bringing his machete up and then down in an arc toward the man's head, the Hispanic saw the movement in time to lunge forward to dodge to blow to the head.

Jamie, however, had seen every twitch he made and knew exactly when his momentum began to carry him forward and out of Rick's path. Her gun already loaded, all she had to do was lift, aim and fire.

The crack of her gun filled the room at the same time the man with the baseball bat called out, whether it was to stop Rick or warn his friend she didn't know. She barely felt the kickback from the gun as the man's head gave a jerk backward, blood pouring from the hole in his forehead, and he collapsed.

As soon as the man hit the ground his friend gave a war cry of outrage and aimed to hit at her, but Rick easily kicked up and landed a blow to his stomach to stop him, knocking him to the ground in the process. Daryl stepped forward as well, aiming his crossbow at him as soon as the man had made an offensive attack.

Instead of tring to attack again, he fled. With Rick on his trail.


	9. Thy Name Is Saint

Short days later, everyone was still recovering from the ordeal of meeting up with the other prisoners and almost losing one of their own. They had steadily been piling up and cleaning out bodies that they hadn't dealt with already, moving further into the prison to take more space for themselves. They cleared some odd rooms, offices, and rechecked the infirmary to make sure that Carl hadn't missed anything when he was there while Hershel was out.

Jamie was presently sifting through some of those rooms, checking whatever she could find. There were maps of the prison, the area, contact numbers, some pointless books that she didn't even feel like going near. Like criminal psychology 101. She had enough of dealing with prisoners or criminals; reading about them wasn't going to do anything else for her.

Pulling out the maps for the area, she knew that Rick would want to get a look at them and so she folded them small and tucked them into the back pocket of her pants for later. Smacking her flashlight against her thigh when it flickered, the blonde woman carefully aimed it around the office to be sure there was nothing else there of value. No one had died in there, at least, since there was no smell of evidence of blood.

"There you are," Daryl's voice called from the hallway, drawing her light around to shine in his face for a moment. "Hey," he protested, lifting a hand to protect his eyes.

"Sorry," she cooed teasingly, lowering the light down to his chest instead. "Lookin' for me?"

"Just wonderin' where you disappeared to," he answered easily, stepping into the room and briefly glancing around through the dying light of Jamie's flashlight. "Find anything interesting?"

"Not in the slightest," she scoffed, turning her light around the bland and ruined room. "I wanted to see if maybe they had some kind of gun stash in the offices, or maybe even some armor that's not too disgusting to go near. But there's nothing, just papers and books."

Daryl grunted from behind her, clearly as excited as she was about her find. Even just to stumble upon a hidden bag of chips would have been a treat for her, but she knew what was expected. Besides, she lived off of enough junk food in the beginning. Raiding vending machines became her thing before she actually became daring enough to enter abandoned houses without fear of someone still being there.

"I would kill for some rum right now," Jamie admitted a moment later, which caused Daryl to let out a huff of a laugh. She always had a fondness for rum, especially spiced rum. "Or even just a beer; I would love a beer." Turning to look at Daryl again, she could see from the look on his face that he was very much in agreement with her and it caused her to snicker in pleasure. "What are you cravin', babe?" she teased while leaning back against the desk.

Daryl stepped right up into her space, looming over her, and his hands found purchase on either side of Jamie's hips.

"Not craving," he growled out, his breath heating her lips as they pulled into a very pleased smile. "Missin'. I've been missin' you, Angel."

Exhaling a long, drawn out breath, Jamie leaned up to catch Daryl's lips as her hands expertly slid into his hair. It was greasy and moist with sweat, but it was Daryl. Soft and grown-out, sliding between her fingers in such a familiar sensation. Daryl's hands transferred from the desk to her hips, pulling her up against his body to let him feel the warmth that emanated from her flesh.

It had been so long, much too long, since they had the chance to be intimate. The cold winter kept everyone close and they never really wanted to expose themselves to the cold long enough to feel it, so it made for a lack of intimacy between the two. Daryl had also been treading very carefully around Jamie's nightmares, but it had seemed that since they arrived at the prison they had slowly been dying down until she didn't even remember them upon waking. There were still nights that left her jerking awake, but they were few and far between.

Pulling her up onto her feet, at her full height once more, Daryl's arms were wrapped so tightly around her that he could feel her knife press against his thigh, the curve of her breasts and the flat plane of her stomach. Even though she had lost a lot of weight, he would never find her anything but beautiful.

She was glory in his eyes.

Stumbling back a couple of steps, Jamie followed him as their lips continued to press and caress, until Daryl could reach the office door and close it with a simple flick of his wrist—shutting out the rest of the world.

Clothes were peeled off with a new desperation, weapons clattering to the floor loudly as the lovers uncaringly bared themselves for the first time in months. Jamie's hands traced over the muscles that Daryl had been defining, feeling the new size with her calloused hands as his rough ones traced over her paler skin, caressing her back and sides.

She wasn't hurt. He realized that belatedly as he was pushed down onto a visitor's chair against the wall, Jamie's legs framing his hips as her fingernails teased along his thighs, taunting him with an almost touch. She wasn't bruised, or wounded. There were no stitches, or bleeding wounds. No cracked bones that he had to care to treat with tenderness.

Digging his fingers into her hair, Daryl gripped and pulled the strands nearly painfully, drawing a deep groan from Jamie as her hips canted forward to pull a similar sound from Daryl.

"I love you," she whispered against his lips, her fingers moving along his jaw, pulling against his hold on her hair to kiss him again. She continued to chant those words as her lips followed her fingers along his jaw, down his throat to his collar bone. It was maddening.

But then there was heat as she settled herself fully down on his lap, choking a groan out of Daryl as his fingers dug into her sides hard enough to bruise. Jamie's back arched in a sensual curve, the muscles beneath her skin rippling with an effect that made her tattooed wings seem to flutter with movement. Letting his head tip backward to hit the wall, Daryl continued to watch her face as her expressions told him everything. He knew when she was feeling ecstasy and when she needed a bit more of a nudge to get there.

Gasps and pants were ripped from their lungs as they two moved together, trying to find that one final moment. They were delirious with the heat, the sensation, as the oxygen seemed to slip from the room, from their lungs. It was desperate and quick, with grabbing hands and strangled pleas.

With his words muffled against her collarbone, teeth scraping her skin, Daryl praised her. He confessed every love and sin he had for her, begged her as he would only ever do when it as them, alone. The roughness of his tone had Jamie near tears as she clawed his back, seeking his touch and more of those words. More.

They just wanted more.

But as their muscles unclenched and their hearts calmed, they were content solely to sit wrapped around each other, listening to the beat of their hearts with the soothing sound of slowing breath.

Jamie woke up to the feeling of fingers, rough and calloused, tracing along her back. Her tattoos, she realized, when she felt the design make up the long feathers near the bottom of her spine. Exhaling rather loudly, Jamie found that even though someone, Daryl she knew, was coaxing her to wake up she really didn't want to will her eyes open. The days before had been tiring, with Hershel nearly dying, the prisoners, and then Hershel waking up. It was a physical and emotional toll that drew everyone to a deep sleep that night.

With one of her arms tucked under her cheek as a pillow and the other stuffed under Daryl's side, Jamie was content to just lie on her stomach and pretend that she wasn't awake. If the soothing motions on her back continued she'd either break out in giggles from the ticklish spots or fall back asleep.

Cracking her eyes open reluctantly, she was able to see the windows over her and Daryl's little section of prison and realized that the sun wasn't even fully over the horizon. The light was dim and silvery, distant. But enough to let Daryl see where he was tracing so delicately along her back and shoulders. Not that he really needed to; he had seen her tattoos enough that he had them memorized.

Of course, she was right, because when she turned her head to look at Daryl his eyes were closed as he continued the movements. Grinning to herself, Jamie leaned forward to press a kiss against his lips. Daryl leaned forward to deepen the kiss further, his hand stilling on the center of her back with his fingers splayed and palm flat. It was tucked under the material of her tank top, as she always wore when sleeping in the hot nights.

She was somewhat regretting the choice to let Daryl sleep out in the open as he had selected for them, since it meant no privacy, but they both knew that if they really wanted privacy it wasn't that hard to go and find it.

"Good morning," she whispered once she had pulled back from him, watching as his blue eyes opened tiredly.

"Mornin'," he returned in a slurred, sleepy voice. She smiled wider at the sound of it, finding times like this with Daryl to be too cute. She never said so aloud, of course, since he prided himself in his masculinity, but it was true. Bright and early, when Daryl first wakes up is such a sweet time to just watch his expressions or listen to him talk in that sleepy, raspy tone.

Reaching up to run her fingers through the hair that was hanging in his face, Jamie cleared it from over his eyes to get a better look at them. She really did love those baby blues; there was something about them that was so unique to just Daryl. Whereas the rest of him was able to come off as gruff and uncaring, his eyes revealed that he truly thought deeply on matters.

"I had a good dream last night," Jamie whispered, not wanting to wake the others just yet. They deserved their rest.

"Hm?" Daryl hummed in question, his chest vibrating with the sound. His interest was piqued.

"Mhm," Jamie answered as she began to pepper his face with gentle kisses. "We were at the hunting cabin, and it was raining outside. We stayed in all day, listening to the rain with a fire going. But we kept each other warm," she explained, ending with another lingering kiss over his lips.

"Sounds nice," Daryl mumbled out in a teasingly pleased voice. "You're makin' me jealous."

Huffing out a laugh, Jamie laid herself back on her side next to Daryl, facing him this time. Resting her cheek against his bicep, she noted the toned strength that he had piled on over the winter and found herself thinking back to the strength in those arms while they were stashed away in the abandoned office.

She never ended up going back to sleep, even as Daryl dozed away beside her, and she was up with everyone else as soon as she heard Rick and T-Dog talking quietly down at the bottom of the stairs. Daryl was a bit slower to join them, but it only took a couple of minutes of walking around for him to wake up enough that his eyes weren't drooping closed constantly.

She knew that he really wished they had coffee, but that was one delicacy that was missing for them.

"We need to get the last of the bodies out of the yard and courtyard. We'll have to get it as clean as we can if we're thinking of planting crops in that field like Hershel mentioned," Rick began in that same hushed tone as more people slowly trickled out of their cells to join them. Carol was already beginning to mix up a porridge like paste from some of the bags that were brought over the day they met the prisoners. Jamie made a face as she looked at it, hoping that it tasted better than it looked.

"We'll have to get the main gate open so we can bring the trucks in. We'll pile the bodies in the back of the pickup, drive them out and dump them elsewhere. Burn them if necessary," T-Dog was saying as he checked on the equipment he had used while going through the tunnels, once more cleaned of walker blood.

"There's still a bus in the way," Jamie pointed out, remembering it when they had first been trying to get into the yard and had to cut the fence.

"I think there's a big enough gap for us to fit the truck through. From there, we can chain the bus up to the pickup and drag it as much out of the way as we can," Rick reasoned, getting a nod from Jamie. He had probably taken a better look at it than she had, so she wasn't going to doubt what he said.

Taking an offered bowl from Carol, Rick and Daryl gave amused stares at the face that Jamie made as she looked down at the off-white slop in the dish. Taking the first spoonful tentatively, the men actually did laugh when she made a gagging motion but swallowed the substance anyway.

"What the fuck-"

"Hey, I was just working with that I had," Carol defended herself as Jamie coughed as a means of getting the taste off of her tongue.

"It tastes like plastic, honey," Jamie answered with a pitying glance to Carol. "Were there no spices or another with the stuff you brought over?" she directed toward Rick, seeing him stop to ponder. "Cinnamon, maybe?"

"I don't think there were any additional flavourings there; everything was mostly just bagged, boxed or canned meals."

"Oh, that's sad," Jamie mumbled before taking another spoonful and forcing it down. The men followed her example and began eating their breakfast as well. Daryl was just pleased to see that she was forcing the food down. Carol ate a small bowl as well, but she soon realized that Jamie was being realistic because it was truly disgusting. It was a relief when the meal ended with all bowls polished clean of food, even Jamie's.

By the time everyone was up and out of their cells, the sun was high in the sky and beating heat down on everyone that stepped out of the prison walls. Jamie blinked against the harsh sunlight for a moment, lifting a hand to shield her eyes from the blinding rays to get a look around the yard. They had already piled up the bodies in areas on their first day, but they had to get rid of them completely now.

"We're gunna need everyone we can get for this," she mumbled, glancing over to the guys and Carol. They could do better with Maggie and Glenn as well, but the two hadn't been in their shared cell when she went to check for them.

They didn't hesitate to begin work and soon Jamie and Carol were driving in the truck and car while the guys kept watch for walkers. Rick pointed over to where he wanted the vehicles parked for the time being, Jamie expertly manoeuvring the truck while in reverse to park in the spot he had pointed at.

"Damn, it's hot as hell in there," Jamie called over to Carol as she hopped from the truck she was occupying, the metal skeleton heating the interior until it had felt like Jamie had crawled into an oven. Carol called over her agreement as they both pulled the keys and moved over to join the rest of the group.

"We'll park the rest of the cars in the west entry of the yard," Rick was explaining as they stepped up to join them.

"Good," Daryl agreed immediately. "Our vehicles out there looked like a giant 'Vacancy' sign." They had only been out for a short while, but already there was a shining layer of sweat on Daryl's arms and face from the sun and heat of the day, his shirt beginning to soak up the moisture. Jamie made her way back preferably slowly as her eyes roved over the sticking material, defining his body.

"After we finish with that we'll load up these corpses so we can burn 'em," Rick finished explaining, motioning toward the piles of bodies and the many that still littered the courtyard outside of the entrance and exit to their cellblock.

T-Dog let out a drawn out sigh, tipping his head back to look up at the blue sky that was littered with clouds. "Gunna be a long day," he commented in a voice that stressed how tired they were all going to be. Tired, but content.

"You'll sleep like a baby tonight," Jamie reminded him as she tossed the truck keys to Rick, getting a silent nod of thanks.

"Yea, cry all night and maybe shit the bed twice," T-Dog retorted with a smirk, getting an outright laugh from the blonde. She had heard the comeback before, but it was always amusing to hear someone say it to the old saying 'sleep like a baby'. It was times like this that she wondered where those sayings could have possibly come from. What baby slept through the whole night comfortably?

"Where's Glenn and Maggie? We could use some help," Carol pointed out as she, too, returned her keys to Rick.

"They weren't inside when we left," Jamie answered, turning away from a laughing T-Dog. She was still smiling in amusement, her hazel eyes looking a warm gold.

Daryl, however, had more intel. "Up in the guard tower," he answered with a swing of his arm in the direction of the tower. It was the same one that she and Rick had taken that first day, running through the yard for their lives before taking refuge there.

"Guard tower?" Rick asked in disbelief, turning to look at him in confusion. Looking back at the tall structure, Jamie followed his line of sight. They couldn't see either of them inside even with the windows that encircled the top, so Jamie could only guess what they were doing. Daryl called out their names loudly, cupping his hands on either side of his mouth to amplify the sound. They only had to wait a moment before Glenn suddenly popped into view, having stood up.

Snickering quickly to herself, Jamie shook her head. At least she and Daryl were more discrete.

The Korean was the first to emerge, shirtless and doing up his pants in a hurry. Carol started to giggle next to Jamie as well. "Hey! What's up guys?" Glenn called back, sounding as though he would be blushing.

"You comin'?" Daryl asked, still yelling.

"What?" Glenn blurted out, stepping further out onto the balcony of the tower. By that point, they were all giggling or laughing, finding Glenn's clear embarrassment and discomfort rather amusing, and only getting worse when Daryl repeated himself. Jamie figure that part of why Rick was laughing was because of Daryl's choice in words, which she knew she had heard before in a very different situation.

"We could use a hand, come on down!" Jamie finally called up to them, taking pity on the poor man. They could see the silhouette of Maggie inside, but she hadn't yet emerged from the tower. Glenn answered back, stating they'd be down, before they disappeared inside once more. The group on the ground, still snickering about their morning amusement, turned to head back to their own duties.

"That was mean," Jamie scolded Daryl half-heartedly.

"Hey, you were laughin', too," he defended, throwing an arm over her shoulder.

Before they got too far down the path, T-Dog called from where they had first been standing, not having moved yet. "Hey, Rick." Even with only Rick's name being called, all four of them turned around to see what had caught the black man's attention. Immediately upon looking back, Rick's smile and light eyes deepened and darkened. The two inmates that they had given a cellblock to had shown up again, lingering near the fence.

Rick marched toward them, looking like a man out for blood. Daryl and T-Dog moved to follow at his command, Jamie staying back with Carol. She had told the other woman about what had happened while they were in the tunnels, keeping most of the more graphic news out of it. She knew how dangerous the others had been, but they weren't sure about these two. They knew they couldn't just trust them. Not after what had happened with their 'friends'.

"This will end badly," Jamie said calmly to the older woman, getting a look of concern from Carol before they both stepped to follow without another word.

Maggie and Glenn emerged from the tower behind the two men, Axel and Oscar not seeming concerned to be surrounded. Jamie stepped up next to Daryl, seeing that he had one hand on his knife. "We can't live in that place another minute, you follow me? All the bodies…people we knew," Axel was saying as he hugged himself with his arms tight to his chest. He was clearly more of a quiet person, and Jamie couldn't see him causing problems for them. He was too timid. "Blood, brains everywhere. There's ghosts!"

"Why don't you move the bodies out," Daryl asked in return, unfazed by their argument.

T-Dog calmly added on, "You should be burning them."

"We tried! We did!"

"The fence is down on the far side of the prison," Oscar said, speaking up for the first time. "Every time we drag a body out those things just line up. Dropping the body and just running back inside."

Seeming to realize that they weren't going to listen to just complaints Axel stepped forward with a new desperation, knowing that it would take more than their pity. "Look, we had nothin' to do with Thomas and Andrew. Nothing. You trying to prove a point?" he asked Rick, pointing to the leader of their group. "You proved it, bro. We'll do whatever it takes to be part of your group, just please,  _please_ , don't make us live in that place."

Rick didn't seem to care about anything that Axel had said, thinking only about what had happened with Thomas and not wanting to take a single chance. Lori was pregnant, they had kids and an injured man who couldn't defend himself yet. There was too much on the line. "Our deal is non-negotiable," he said simply. "You either live in your cellblock, or you leave."

"I told you this was a waste of time," Oscar said to Axel before he turned a glare over to Rick. "They ain't no different than the pricks who shot up our boys."

Jamie's jaw tensed at the insult, but didn't make a move or sound.

"You know how many friends' corpses we had to drag out this week? Just threw 'em out, like-" Oscar stopped, composing himself. "These were good guys. Good guys who had our backs against the really bad dudes in the joint, like Thomas and Andrew."

Jamie looked up, gauging Rick's facial expression. She wasn't sure what he was thinking, but she knew that there was going to be one hell of a shit storm if he said no to them. They had insulted them, called them by those who had done the worst in life. They didn't kill innocent people, but that was Oscar's accusation.

For Jamie and Rick, it hit too close to home.

"We've all done things to get in here, Chief, and I ain't gunna pretend to be a saint, but believe me…we've paid our due. Enough that we would rather hit that road than to go back in that shithole."

"The dues are different now," Jamie spoke up, feeling eyes fall on her as she did. "Whatever you paid before, that was another life. You can't handle removing your friends bodies, but you haven't seen them eaten. Killed. In an agony you can do nothing about. Hitting that road….you'll be paying a lot more than just your dues."

"You sayin' we should stay?" Oscar asked in a borderline scoff.

Jamie just shook her head. "No, I'm not. I'm telling you not to underestimate that road. You think it's bad, to throw out one of those bodies and all the walkers swarm you. Here, you have a place to run back in and hide, a place to stay safe. You'll be on your own out there, not a solid wall around you, or a door to keep you safe at night."

Oscar and Axel swallowed thickly at her words, seeing a dead serious look in her eyes that was mirrored in all of their eyes. They had lived through it, the running and the nights without protection more than just staying awake.

"I'm sorry," Oscar declined. "We'll have to take that chance."

Rick looked back to Daryl, seeing Jamie bow her head slightly. She had tried, but their minds were made up. Daryl shook his head in response to Rick's questioning gaze. He didn't want to send them to their death any more than Jamie, but they couldn't accept them into the group.

So, in answer to their arguments, the two men were herded to the space between the two gates with locks keeping them in. They'd give them some supplies, and then send them on their way. Daryl and Jamie were securing the lock on the gate, Axel seeming torn now that the decision had been made.

"Is what you said true?" he asked when Jamie turned to leave. "About what it's like?"

Glancing to Daryl, who had stopped alongside her, she nodded for him to continue before turning to look at the red haired man. "You're signing for your death," was her blunt answer. "We had a lot more people than we do now, in the beginning. Some left, most died. If you go out there, you're gunna wish ghosts were your only problem."


	10. Listen To Your Mother

Jamie had her eyes on her task and her ears on the guys at all times. Daryl had gone with Rick and Glenn out through the hole in the fence while she was working with Carol and Maggie to get the trucks tucked out of sight so no one would think to try and get in the prison. T-Dog was acting as a guide, pointing them in the right directions to get the cars in a line along the fence. Carol had originally been driving the trucks, but when her foot slipped passed the break and she nearly ran the man over, Jamie had taken on that task instead.

"You're good!" T-Dog called as he held up his hand in a signal to stop, watching the large silver truck break in place. Jamie put the truck in neutral and popped the key from the ignition, relieved that she had the time to get out of the truck again. It was even hotter than it had been that morning and her skin felt like it was going to start melting soon. She was covered in a glistening layer of sweat already, and she was sure her smell was ripe.

"Thank god," she whispered to herself as she hopped from the cab, actually feeling like it was cool outside thanks to the nice breeze and lack of a hotbox.

" _All right, Hershel!_ "

Looking up after hearing Glenn's cheer, her eyes fell on where Hershel was supported on a set of crutches with Lori, Carl and Beth standing around him. Just the sight of the man already on his feet brought a smile to Jamie's face even as she shook her head in disbelief. She didn't know how the man did it, but he wasn't about to let a missing leg take him down.

"Bravo, old man," she praised him, even if he couldn't hear her.

Maggie stepped up next to her, smiling bright enough to light a room. She and Jamie shared a quick look of happiness and relief. Everyone on the property was feeling the happiness of seeing Hershel back on his feet. He brought with him a new hope, a hope that they really could survive through the apocalypse. They had fought this long, and they had fought hard, but now there seemed to be a beacon of hope for their efforts.

"Your dad is a brave man," Jamie complemented Maggie, seeing the woman seemed to glow with pride.

"That's my daddy," she answered, the pride ringing through in her tone as well. Clapping the brunette on the back, Jamie knew that Maggie had every right to be proud of him. To be proud to be his daughter.

" _Walkers!_ "

Jamie's head snapped forward again so quickly she was surprised not to hear something crack, hazel eyes acutely looking for what Carl had called out. A couple of yards behind where the small group was standing, bundles of walkers were beginning to herd themselves into the courtyard that they had spent all morning clearing bodies out of.

"No!" Maggie screamed, taking off at a dead run.

Jamie mentally kicked herself for hesitating and followed the other woman, putting all of her strength into her legs to run as fast as she could. If felt like the day they had been looking for Sophia, running through the forest to try and find where the church bell was sounding. It wasn't a time to be worried about noise, so Jamie pulled Daryl's gun from her belt and took aim at the walkers closest to Carl and Hershel.

Distantly, she could hear Rick calling and knew that he would be making his way through the fences to get there. Focusing on the walkers, she ran straight into the fray to begin taking them out head on. It took too long to aim her gun when all she had to do with her knife was swing for the face.

"That gate is open!" T-Dog yelled from behind her. Jamie looked toward where he was referring, but her attention was caught by the sight of Lori still standing in place, her revolver in her hands as she took down the walkers stumbling for her.

Kicking a walker in the chest to get it out of her way, Jamie didn't bother with it more before she ran for Lori and snatched her arm in a crushing grasp.

" _Get your ass inside!_ " the blonde ordered in a nearly vicious tone as she pushed Lori in the direction of where Maggie and Carl had run, trying to get into the tunnels of the prison where they weren't so open. Lori stumbled in surprise, both at Jamie's tone and her sudden appearance at her side. Jamie lifted her gun again and followed after Lori as she began to take careless aim at the walkers in their path, dropping them as quickly as she could.

"Lori! Come on!" Maggie was calling from the entrance to the gated doorway, Carl waiting halfway to help his mother. "Jamie!" she added on, seeing the walkers beginning to swarm in on the blonde woman. Her gun was drawing them to her, hearing her instead of focusing on Lori and Carl.

Her eyes flicked in their direction before she glanced over to where Rick was trying to get his gate open. He'd want her with Lori and Carl, to protect them. Cursing under her breath, the woman turned on heel and hightailed it toward the entrance, pulling the gate closed behind her. "Get to the cellblock, now!" she ordered them as soon as she was inside of the tunnels, moving in behind Lori to help her hobble along.

"Slow down," Lori gasped, already out of breath due to her condition.

"I will carry you if need be, now move!" Jamie just snapped, tucking her gun into her pants as they reached the man room outside of their block.

"This way," Maggie encouraged, wanting to get Lori safe inside of a cell as soon as she could. She needed to get back out there, both her and Jamie did. They could help the others and they had loved ones that were still out there fighting for their lives. Before Maggie was even at the cellblock entrance, however, another wave of walkers appeared from within, snarling and growling at the prospect of a meal.

"Other way," Jamie corrected, wrapping an arm around Lori's shoulder to lead the woman toward the tunnels. Maggie grabbed Carl in much the same fashion and together the all ran for their lives to get to the tunnels, Maggie slamming the barred door closed behind them with the hopes that it would stop the walker's pursuit.

Jamie kept a constant hand on Lori's arm, pulling her penlight from her pocket to stick it inside of her mouth. Her knife staying in her other hand constantly, raised for any threat that could come from around a corner. They hadn't removed all of the walkers from the tunnels, not by a long shot.

They only paused briefly when the alarms for the prison started to blare, red and yellow lights flashing in the corners. Jamie didn't linger long on the thought, realizing that someone was screwing with them. Someone had opened the back gate, someone had let the walkers into their cell, someone had turned on the alarms. Any walkers within a couple of miles would hear those alarms and it would bring them right down on top of them.

They were following the arrows painted on the walls when Lori stopped, pulling Jamie to a halt with her. Grasping at Jamie's arms, Lori grunted in pain as her face contorted with effort. Jamie's heart seemed to drop to her feet as she recognized the labour pains. "You had to go into labour now?" she asked incredulously, her eyes widening in fear.

"Labour?" Maggie repeated, rushing up to gently place her hands on Lori's sides in the hopes of balancing her.

"Mom?" Carl asked, his voice trembling with a fear Jamie hadn't heard from him in a long time. The winter and past events had hardened him quite a bit.

All four looked in the direction they had been walking when an entire group of walkers rounded the corner, gnashing decayed teeth as they reached toward them viciously. They turned back the way they had come, Jamie slipping herself under Lori's arm to take the woman's weight so she could walk her. Lori could feel the strength under Jamie's shoulder as she supported her, basically carrying her along. Just as she had threatened to do.

Every turn they made just seemed to lead them to more walkers, Carl taking the lead as he desperately tried to find somewhere safe to put themselves for the time being.

"In here!" Carl called as soon as he spotted a door, Jamie basically dragging Lori inside while Maggie helped Carl to slam the dented door closed behind them. There was no lock, so they had to sit with the hope that they could survive there long enough.

Moving deeper into the room, Jamie let Lori grab onto her in pain as another contraction broke through. She was nearly biting her lips to try and not make any sound, the agony on her face leaving a nauseous feeling in Jamie's stomach. There really wasn't much they could do for her, except protect her from anything that got in.

Only when they couldn't hear anymore walkers did they let themselves have even the slightest breath of relief. Maggie and Jamie were fretting over Lori, hoping beyond all hope that she didn't have the baby in a generator room.

"What are those alarms?" Lori gasped out as her contraction passed, still panting as she began to walk around. It seemed to help her a bit with the pain. Maggie dismissed the question and tried to get Lori to lie down, in hopes that it would help her relax and in some miracle slow the birth. Jamie had no clue what she was doing; she had never delivered a baby herself nor been there to witness someone else.

"No, the baby's coming now," Lori declined, grasping on a metal railing to support herself.

"We can't get back to the cellblock," Jamie forced out as she looked to Maggie. If they were stuck in that room, they couldn't get to Hershel or Carol. Lori would have to deliver the baby there, with only them to help her.

"It'll have to be here," Maggie agreed, sounding dazed.

Lori was struggling to take in air, her breaths laboured as she continued to grab at the railing. Jamie knew that someone was at least supposed to breathe properly while in labour and manoeuvred herself across from Lori on the other side of the railing.

"Hun, you have to breathe. Come on, deep breaths for me," she coached, forcing Lori to look in her eyes until she began to copy her. Maggie warned Lori that she was going to begin taking her pants off, both as a necessity for the birth and to try and made Lori even somewhat more comfortable. "That's it, just like that," Jamie soothed, resting her hands on Lori's arms and rubbing soothingly across the sweat soaked skin.

"We need to lay her down," Maggie told Jamie, the woman nodding her head before she helped Maggie to gently settle Lori on her back. The cement was cold and unforgiving, but they didn't have many options. Jamie briefly felt sorry for Carl, seeing his mother in such a state, but didn't let herself get distracted as she let Lori rest against her thighs while Maggie pulled Lori's pants off.

"I'll do your exam, see if your dilated," Maggie explained as she pulled the jeans off of Lori's feet. Jamie let Lori grab her arms, her head resting back against her stomach. She was entirely uncomfortable right now and didn't seem to care about the close contact between them. Carl, however, turned away as Maggie spread his mother's naked legs.

Jamie watched with a look of disgust and amazement, awed at Maggie's courage. She was sticking her fingers in another woman's vagina.

"I can't tell," Maggie admitted finally, pulling her hand free.

"I gotta push," Lori answered her through gasps. Jamie helped her to stand up, keeping Lori steady as the woman's hands clamped down on her wrists. She used Jamie as her anchor while Maggie stayed behind her, doing all that she could to tell if the baby was coming. Pushing down as hard as she could, Lori's pained eyes stared off past Jamie's shoulder before she cried out and her nails stabbed painfully into the other woman's forearms.

The blonde winced at the stinging burn, but didn't do anything more as she helped to keep Lori up and supported.

"I'm okay, I'm okay," Lori assured once she had caught her breath somewhat, meeting Jamie's wide, panicked eyes. Aside from matters that included Daryl in danger, she had never seen such fear in that woman's eyes before.

"Are you sure?" Jamie asked, completely unsure of herself and what she was doing. Was she helping? Hindering? She knew that Lori would probably much rather look at anyone besides her at the moment.

"You're doing great, Lori. Just keep doing it," Maggie soothed from behind her, kneeling to check if there was any visible difference in Lori's progress. "Your body knows what to do, let it do all the work."

Taking a deep breath, Lori tried again. Her face contorted as she once more pushed down on her muscles, trying to push the baby out. Her hands were sure to leave bruises on Jamie's arms, but neither found an ounce of thought to care. Lori yelped in pain and had to stop pushing, Maggie rubbing soothing circles on Lori's lower back. Carl remained off to the side, still holding onto his gun, as he watched the scene with a pale face.

Lori looked up into Jamie's eyes briefly before hers closed and she gritted her teeth with the next push.

"Lori! Stop, don't push!" Maggie ordered as she was kneeling behind the pregnant brunette, her tone desperate. "Something's wrong!"

The order was given too late as Lori released a blood curdling scream, her nails gouging into Jamie's arms and releasing small rivers of blood. Jamie's own pained yelp joined Lori's scream, but she refused to jerk away.

Maggie pulled her hand away from checking on Lori's progress to reveal blood covering her fingers.

"Lay her down!" Jamie ordered once Lori stopped screaming, her face having lost all colour and sweat running down her cheeks. Jamie's arms came around her just as Lori's legs seemed to fold, Carl and Maggie grabbing at her as well. All three carefully helped to lay her down, the woman's looking like she was already dead.

"Mom…?" Carl begged quietly. "Mom, look at me. Look at me, keep your eyes open," Carl called out, taking Lori's hand.

"We have to get you back to dad," Maggie told her, even though Lori seemed too far gone to understand. With her free hand, Lori reached up to loosely grab at Jamie's shirt.

"I'm not gunna make it," Lori argued. Looking down at her, Jamie realized that Lori was fully aware of what was going on. She knew what was happening to herself, with the blood and the pain. "I know what it means," Lori interrupted when Maggie tried to explain. "And I'm not losing my baby." She stared up at Jamie was she spoke, her eyes holding a solid resolve even as her voice trembled with pain and effort. "You've gotta cut me open."

"No," Maggie denied. "We can't. We have no training, no supplies-"

"You don't have a choice," Lori interrupted, sounding fainter than before.

"I'll go for help-" Carl started as he rushed to his feet.

"No!" Lori shouted in a hoarse tone, looking over to her son.

Maggie continued to try and persuade Lori to change her mind, to let them get her back to the cellblock where Carol or Hershel could be. Jamie, however, felt oddly numb. Lori already knew her decision, and it was final. No amount of arguing was going to change her mind. That terrified Jamie, because that would mean that Lori knew she was going to die. Lori knew that to save the baby, she was going to die.

"Jamie has to do it," Maggie argued, looking up to the blonde woman. The suddenness of the comment made Jamie jump, her head snapping to the side as she looked at Maggie with a look of bewilderment that gave way to fear.

Her voice shook as she spoke, "What? No…I-I can't-"

"Your hands are steadier than mine. The cut has to be precise so that you can open her cervix without cutting the baby," Maggie argued. It was then that Jamie noticed she was trembling all over. Her hands on Lori's knees, covered in blood, were shaking with the quakes in her body. Jamie, however, looked down at the hand she had on Lori's shoulder to see that it was still. Just as still as it had been when she held her gun to kill someone.

"Please," Lori begged from below Jamie, reaching up to grasp her bleeding arm. "Save my baby."

Maggie and Jamie carefully traded places, leaving Jamie between Lori's spread thighs. Lifting Lori's shirt with a surprisingly steady hand, the blonde found the scar from when she had given birth to Carl.

"Jamie," Lori started as she looked to the terrified woman kneeling between her knees. "I want you to know that…I forgive you. And I know." Jamie blinked in surprise as she looked up at the mother, her hazel eyes as wide as a child's. "I know you didn't do it. That you didn't kill Shane." Maggie and Carl both looked between the two women in surprise.

Jamie opened her mouth to protest, but Lori shook her head.

"A person wouldn't kill someone and have nightmares about it every night. They wouldn't fear it. It was Rick, I know. And thank you, Jamie, for protecting him. Thank you so much. I got to have these past couple of months with my family. I don't blame you, sweetie, I know why you lied." Jamie's chin trembled as she fought against her feminine urge to bawl her eyes out at Lori's words.  _She forgave her_. "You be strong. You promise me that no matter what happens in the future, you will be strong and you will protect my family."

She was blinking rapidly against tears as she looked into Lori's eyes, soft and maternal. "I promise, Lori." Leaning forward, she pressed a kiss against Lori's large stomach. "I'll protect all of them. You have my word. You're such a good momma," she assured, reaching up to grasp Lori's hand tightly.

When she pulled back, she carefully took Carl's knife from him, her lip trembling as she listened to Lori speak to her son. Told him not to be scared, to take care of his father. They were her final goodbyes. The farewell from a mother.

"You don't have to do this," Carl begged, his voice breaking as he began to cry. In that one, heartbreaking moment he knew that he was about to lose his mother. And he had been treating her so horribly. The guilt began to tear him apart as tears left tracks down his still childishly rounded cheeks.

"You're gunna be fine," Lori assured, her voice breathy and calm. "You are gunna beat this world, I know you will."

Jamie's eyes began to burn with her own tears as she looked down at Lori's scar. At the flesh she was about to maim and tear open anew.

"You are smart, and you are strong, and you are so brave, and I love you." Lori's eyes were brimming with tears as she looked up to her child. Her son. She wouldn't know her baby, she wouldn't know if it was a boy or a girl, if they lived or died. She would know them. But she could say goodbye to her son. She could help him to understand.

"I love you, too," Carl whispered to his mother, memorizing her face. Her eyes, her lips, the pallor of her skin and the tone of her hair.

"You gotta do what's right, baby. You promise me you'll always do what's right. It's so easy to do the wrong thing in this world, so don't—so if it feels wrong, don't do it. All right? If it feels easy, don't do it. Don't let the world spoil you. You're so good," Lori praised as she wiped at Carl's falling tears, cleaning them from his freckled cheeks as Maggie and Jamie watched on with breaking hearts. "You're my sweet boy. The best thing I ever did, and I love you."

Pulling Carl down to give him one last hug, Lori continued to chant her love for her son as she held onto him, sobbing through her words. Maggie and Jamie weren't better off, tears falling freely as they tried to be quiet, to let the mother and son say their final goodbyes in peace.

"Jamie, when this is over I need you to-"

"No," Jamie declined, knowing what Lori wanted of her.

"You have to do it! It can't be Rick!" Lori shouted out through the building pain in her abdomen." Unable to further deny her, Jamie's head bowed her acceptance. She quickly wiped her arms across her face to remove the tears, letting her see clearly again.

Letting out one last long exhale, Lori stared up at the ceiling. "Goodnight, love," she whispered.

"I'm so sorry," Jamie whispered back as she placed the knife to the very left of her scar before digging the blade in just enough to slice flesh before dragging it across the length of the scar.

Blood immediately welled to the surface as Jamie fought against throwing up and looking away, Lori shrieking in agony as the pain registered and rippled through her entire body. Jamie forced herself to ignore the screams, ignore Carl's please, as she stuck her hands in the wound to feel at Lori's cervix. Dipping the knife in again, this time she cut through the protection around the baby. Lori went quiet, her body shaking as she passed out, and began to quickly fade away.

Carl stayed close to his mother, whispering and mumbling to her as Maggie rushed to help keep the cut open so that Jamie could see what she was doing. The blonde remained fully focused as she kept one hand holding open the gaping would with the other reaching into Lori's cervix for the baby. Through the blood and fluid, her head found a smooth, soft head.

"Maggie," she choked out, dropping the knife to instead use both hands to guide the baby from the gaping wound. Maggie's hands trembled as she watched the small body be pulled from Lori's still body, the small newborn not making a single sound.

"Turn her over," Maggie ordered. "Rub and tap her back."

Jamie did as she was bid and manoeuvred the baby over one arm, on her stomach, to rub and pat her tiny back. Not a moment later, the small thing gave a weak cry before beginning to cough and cry louder. Carl was suddenly there, his vest in his hands, as he helped her to wrap up the baby protectively. She began to cry louder and squirm in Jamie's hold.

Looking down at the gore covered face of the tiny baby, Jamie began to cry again. Knowing that the shock of her actions would be setting in, Maggie took over and cut the umbilical cord that kept the baby attached to Lori. As soon as the baby was free Jamie wrapped her up in the vest completely, rising onto shaking legs. She couldn't bring herself to look down at Lori.

"We have to go," Maggie urged, also standing.

"Wait," Carl stopped them. "We can't just leave her here, she'll turn."

Remembering her promise, Jamie closed her eyes in resignation before she turned to face Maggie, holding the baby out to the other woman. Once her arms were free, she turned to look down at Lori's still form. Blood and fluids covered the floor, stained their clothes. It marked that place; where Lori had died.

"No," Carl denied, stopping her cold.

"I promised her-"

"But she's  _my_  mum," Carl urged, drawing his gun to punctuate his words.

"No, Carl," Jamie snapped in a hoarse tone. Kneeling in front of the boy, she grabbed his arms almost roughly. "You will not do this. You won't!" She shook him with her final words, trying to make it absolutely clear. They were both crying, both shivering. "I won't let you." Taking a deep breath and lifting her hands to frame his face, uncaring of the blood that lingering on their flesh. "You remember her as she was. You remember what she said to you, and that she loved you. That is what you keep with you."

Carl was openly crying as he looked down at the women before him, her hazel eyes hardened but desperate. She was keeping her promise; she was protecting him. Nodding his head dejectedly, Jamie gave a quivering smile.

"Go with Maggie, and keep your baby sister safe."

Carl moved past her on stumbling feet for a moment before he gained more confidence in his movements and walked with Maggie out of the old, musty room that they had been forced to hide away in. Closing the door behind them, neither one looked back at Jamie or Lori as they departed. They put their focus entirely on Lori's last gift to the world.

Pulling her gun from her belt, Jamie moved to kneel next to Lori's head. Her eyes were closed and her head tipped to the side. Reaching forward, she pressed her knuckles to the back of the woman's cheek. She was still warm, but the chill was already seeping into her flesh. Turning her hand over, she cupped the woman's cheek as tears dripped from Jamie's eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Lori," she whispered, stroking a thumb across a pale cheek. "But she's beautiful. You had a daughter; a beautiful, healthy daughter. And we'll keep her safe, all of us, we'll make sure this world doesn't take her, too." Smiling sadly, Jamie leaned forward to kiss Lori's forehead in farewell. "You're so brave, Lori. And I am so proud of you."

Placing the barrel of her gun to Lori's temple, Jamie let her eyes close before she pulled the trigger. She could feel Lori's body jerk from the impact of the bullet, the splash of blood subdued because of a lack of heartbeat.

Lurching back to fall on her butt, Jamie's hands came up to cover her face, sobs beginning to shake her body. She had kept her promise, yes, but she felt so wrong having done it. Lori had been right, Rick couldn't be the one to do it, but Jamie wouldn't let Carl do it either. He needed to treasure the good memories with his mother; shooting her corpse should never be in his mind.

Lowering her hands as she sniffled and coughed against her tears, Jamie let her eyes fall on Lori's still body.

She wasn't going to leave her here.

Lori deserved a proper burial—somewhere the she could be visited and remembered. Prayed to and spoke to by those who loved her. That closure was going to be needed, especially by Rick. He hadn't been here, he hadn't gotten to tell her goodbye, or that he loved her. Letting Lori rest in peace, properly, would hopefully help with that goodbye.

Rising onto legs that shook a moment, Jamie looked around the room to try and find something that she could wrap Lori's body in. If she could then she was going to preserve both Lori's modesty and her memory by hiding the gore she, Maggie and Carl were likely never to forget. Ripping through the old room, Jamie pulled off tarps and other dirty materials, hoping to find something that Lori could be wrapped in. Everything was decayed and eaten by bugs, barely keeping together.

Looking back at Lori's body, Jamie steeled herself and left the abandoned room. She secured the door as best she could before running as fast as she could to where she remembered the laundry room to be. It was where Rick had killed Thomas, so it was hard to forget. She didn't want to leave Lori's body alone there for long; she didn't want to chance that anything would get in that room.

Taking out walkers without even really focusing on them, Jamie's hand and knife were dripping with their blood by the time she reached the room, immediately beginning to go through the shelves in search of a large sheet. Taking an entire stack of them, the blonde tucked them under her arm and rushed passed the body of Thomas as she ran from the room. He didn't even deserve a second glance.

Her feet pounded on the ground, echoing through the halls as the only sound. No walkers met her on the way back, leaving the halls dark and quiet. They were like a tomb.

Slowing her stride when she reached the room once more, the door was slightly ajar. Rushing inside and pulling her gun, Jamie dropped the sheets on the floor and jumped the small set of stairs to where Lori's body was left, her heart in her throat. The rasping of a walker, however, made her blood boil. It was kneeling in the blood around Lori, but had yet to actually touch the woman.

Stepping right up to the dead man, Jamie put her gun away and instead drove her knife down into the top of his skull, putting her rage into that one hit. Pulling it free with a wet sucking sound, the man dropped down next to Lori. Grabbing him by his arms, Jamie pulled the corpse away from where Lori was lying, screaming in outrage at it as her knife sunk into his face three more times before she moved back with a heaving chest.

Her heart was racing and her hands were shaking, but she was glad she was able to get back before he bit into Lori. If her body was still warm, the walkers would think her to be fresh meat and eat her.

Jamie was not going to let that happen.

Collecting the sheets once more, Jamie tore off a strip of one sheet to wrap around Lori's stomach. She would let the woman keep her body as intact as possible, with a wound as gaping as the one Jamie had cut her with, her insides were likely to fall loose.

"I'm sorry," she chanted as she worked, wrapping and tying the rest of the sheet from Lori's stomach to her feet, soaking up blood. Laying the other two sheets on the floor where no blood was, the woman diligently made sure the sheet was completely open.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, kneeling next to Lori. Carefully slipping her arms under Lori's shoulders and knees, Jamie hoisted her out of the puddle of blood and gore to place her in the center of the sheets. Blood still soaked through, but not nearly as much. Wrapping sheet carefully, tightly, around Lori's body, Jamie sat back to take a calming breath. "I'll make it right," she whispered to Lori as she leaned forward to pick her up again, ignoring the weight of the fully grown woman's body. She was lighter without the weight of the baby, and much of her blood was on the floor behind Jamie.

Stumbling her way over to the stairs, Jamie tightened her grip on Lori's cradled body before she continued.

"Just be at peace," she whispered to the chilling body. "Just rest, and leave everything else to us."

She took the same route that the four of them had taken to get into the tunnels, leading back toward their cellblock as she followed the arrows in reverse. She only had to stop a couple of times to adjust her hold on Lori, but most walkers had been killed already.

Carl. She knew that it must have been Carl.

He protected his baby sister, just like she told him to.

The light in the cellblock was almost blinding in comparison to the tombs, but Jamie just blinked it away. Lori needed to be buried before too long. Her body wasn't going to last forever. Leaving the cellblock behind her, she was only a couple of yards from the door when she heard the loud cries of a baby, screaming clear as day.

"Hear that, Lori?" Jamie gasped out as her arms began to feel like lead. "She's healthy, and has a sure set of lungs on her."

Nudging the outside door open with her foot, Jamie had to close her eyes against the blinding sunlight, stopping just outside the doors. Anyone speaking outside went silent, the only sound in the courtyard being sobs of grown men and women and the piercing cry of a newborn. Blinking her eyes open, Jamie looked toward the others of the group.

Rick was on the ground a couple of paces behind Carl, on his knees as he stared up where she was standing, tears glistening on his cheeks. He looked ragged and torn. Jamie focused on Rick was she began walking again, manoeuvring herself and Lori carefully down the steps and through the open gate, just shy of where Rick was standing.

Her arms were shaking with fatigue and she almost feared she'd lose her grip on Lori, but Rick got up from his knelt place on the concrete once Jamie was free of the cage and rushed forward. He stopped just short of touching Lori, seeing the bloodstain on the sheet that was caused from Jamie shooting her through the head.

"She deserves peace," Jamie choked out finally, looking up to Rick as her eyes burned with fresh tears. All of the crying was making her head pulse with pain, but she refused to acknowledge it. "I'm so, so sorry, Rick," she gasped, choking against sobs that were starting to shake her chest and shoulders. Rick finally reached around Lori's body to take her weight from Jamie, but he ended up sinking to his knees as he looked at the sheet, where his wife's face would be beneath.

Jamie went down with him, letting Rick cradle Lori's body while he had the chance.

A strong set of hands gripped at her upper arms, drawing Jamie back as Rick let out loud, heartbreaking wales through his pain. Jamie recognized that it was Daryl, right there, with his arms wrapping around her from behind. She was shivering, she realized. She felt so cold, even in the beating heat of the sun. She just felt cold.

"It'll be a'right, Angel," Daryl tried to assured as he leaned against her sweaty hair. He didn't care that she seemed to have blood on just about every section of her body. "Everything'll be a'right."


	11. Wings of Blood and Bone

Jamie wasn't sure what time it was, or how long she had been sitting there. She was covered in dirt and her hands were bloody with blisters. Glenn had showed her where she could dig a hole for Lori's grave, trying to help her but the woman wouldn't hear it. They knew that the only person who could talk her away from digging the graves was Daryl, but he had left with Maggie to find baby formula before the baby starved. Daryl refused to let anyone else die, and had rushed off almost immediately, almost reluctantly as he held onto Jamie's cold body, trembling.

He had told Jamie to clean up and rest; and she had nodded and faintly acknowledged him, but almost as soon as he was gone did she pick up a shovel.

Jamie had wanted to wait to lay Lori to rest, she had wanted Rick to be there, but he had ran into the tombs almost as soon as she had come out; leaving Lori's body lying on the concrete, Rick had picked up his axe and taken off with blood on his mind and vengeance in his stride. He was going to kill every single walker that he found, no matter how many there were.

However, she couldn't wait forever.

Lori's grave had been dug and filled, a stake marking where a headstone would go. It was only temporary; Glenn said he would make her a proper cross. Now, with two other empty graves for T-Dog and Carol, once they found their bodies, Jamie just sat beside the mound of dirt that covered Lori's wrapped body.

"Did I do good?" she asked suddenly.

"Lori would be proud of what you did," Hershel said from behind Jamie, hobbling on his crutches on the uneven ground. "And Rick will be thankful; he's just trying to cope with the loss in the only way he knows how right now."

Nodding her head, Jamie heaved a sigh as she let her hand move to cradle her head. It was still throbbing after her prolonged periods of crying, but she knew that it was a normal pain. It was grief, in a very physical form. It pained her to know that the only times she suffered such a severe headache was with the loss of someone she loved dearly. Her mother, her father. At one time she thought Daryl. And now Lori; she'd had a rocky relationship with the woman, but no one deserved to die in such a way and never even get the chance to meet their baby they'd sacrificed their life for.

"Come on, Jamie, let's get you inside so you can get cleaned up. Daryl and Maggie should be back soon, and you promised Daryl," Hershel reminded, getting another nod from the woman.

Knowing that she was going to have to leave sooner or later, Jamie pulled herself up onto shaking legs. Her thighs were burning from the amount of exertion she had put into them that day, running from walkers, carrying Lori, heaving dirt around when digging the graves. She was well and truly tired, but there was a small sense of peace to know that she had done all she could. That she had kept Lori's promise.

"You're shakier than me," Hershel teased as he watched the blonde woman try to regain her footing.

"I don't doubt it," Jamie retorted as she moved to step alongside Hershel, pausing only once to glance back at Lori's grave. "Goodbye," she mumbled. Hershel heard the whispered word, but chose not to comment on it. No one knew what had happened between Jamie and Lori, except for Maggie and Carl, who said nothing on the matter, but Jamie had been doing all that she could for Lori.

Side by side, the two slowly made their way into the prison as the sun began to set off in the distance, taking the light away. Glenn had been able to convince the two remaining prisoners to get a couple of buckets of water from the creek and bring them up to the prison. Hershel told Jamie that one was for her, so she could wash off all of the blood and dirt.

There were still bandages and antiseptics left from the infirmary, so he also had some of those prepared to wrap up her hands. Jamie took the bucket to an empty cell with a change of clothes, stripping down to her underwear, and began to use a cloth to wash herself from head to toe. Her hair dripped with water, no longer covered in blood and dirt, while her skin was starting to show that tan from when she first met Rick.

The wounds that she had on her hands stung from the water, but she didn't let it slow her down as she tried to get herself cleaned up before the daylight was gone entirely.

"Jamie?"

Glancing up from where she was washing her legs, blood having soaked through her pants when she was kneeling on the ground, Jamie was surprised to see Beth standing in the doorway. "Hey, is everything alright?" Jamie asked, her voice slightly strained from crying. Her words cracked, and Jamie was ashamed to say it made her sound pathetically weak.

"I just wanted to see if you needed any help; daddy said your hands were hurt pretty bad," Beth offered, looking a bit out of place. "I…I could wash your back or help you clean your hands." Sitting straighter on the bed, Jamie blinked at Beth's suddenly shy nature. The teenager had been gaining confidence gradually since leaving the farm, now able to shoot walkers and speak confidently. But she was shy again.

"Do I scare you?" Jamie asked quietly, thinking back to how Beth had thanked her on the day she ended up killing Thomas. "Are you...afraid of me?" Jamie was worried that the answer would be yes, that Beth was afraid of Jamie after everything she had gone.

But Beth denied it, shaking her head as she strode quickly into the room. "I'm not afraid of you, Jay. Never," she assured the other blonde, standing only about two feet away from her. Even in the faint light, with Jamie sitting unabashed in her underwear and bra, Beth sounded as sure as she could be. "I'm not afraid of you…but you're…you're very…" the girl couldn't seem to decide on what to say, how she could explain herself to Jamie.

Jamie just waited patiently, the cold water dripping from her hair and down her body. It was a relief, after slaving under the hot sun all day. She was sure she'd have touches of sunburn to add to her strained muscles.

"You're strong," Beth finally said. "You're strong and beautiful, and nothing seems to scare you."

Jamie actually let out a dry laugh at Beth's words, looking away from her innocent eyes down to the water covered floor. The blood and dirt from her body stained the concrete, the water from the bucket left mostly clean since she had been ringing the rag out on the floor, uncaring about dirtying the cement. "I'm terrified of a lot of things, Beth. The only time in my life that I was more scared than today, was the day I thought Daryl was dead, when Andrea shot him. I was scared today, that I'd be bitten. Or Lori, or someone else. I was scared the baby wouldn't make it. I was terrified that I was the one cutting Lori open, saving the baby but killing her."

Beth stood still as she listened to the other woman, looking shocked.

"A lot of things scare me—scares everybody here. But what makes us strong is when we chose to live on…to face those fears. And to move on. One of the scariest things in this world…is living." Giving a true smile, Jamie reached forward with her clean, but injured hand to take Beth's hand in hers. "You chose to live, Beth, so you're already strong. One of the strongest people here, because you are _so_ young and you have _so much more_ to live for."

Beth gave a small smile in return, and Jamie thought back to what Lori had told Carl.

"Don't let this world spoil you," she finished, squeezing Beth's hand.

Nodding her head, Beth seemed more at ease in Jamie's presence. "Here, I'll wash your back properly," Beth offered, reaching for the cloth. Jamie didn't protest and turned her back to Beth, letting the girl see her full tattoos for the first time. After dipping the cloth in the bucket of water, Beth began to carefully clean the skin, exposing the full artistry of Jamie's tattoos.

Her wings.

After Beth had assured Jamie she wasn't covered in anymore blood or dirt, Jamie air-dried for a bit as she and Beth spoke quietly in the cell. Only when Carl called for Beth to help with the baby did Jamie finally start to get dressed, changing her soaked undergarments before pulling on her sweatpants and Daryl's long-sleeved shirt.

She felt nostalgic again, as she pulled the collar up to run the familiar material along her lips. It had long ago lost Daryl's scent—she was tempted to make him sleep in it for a night just to fix that.

Rejoining the others down in the main room of the cellblock, Jamie smiled at the sight of Carl rocking and soothing a fussing baby. They knew that she must have been hungry, and everyone was praying that Maggie and Daryl came back with formula soon. Carl looked up when he saw Jamie approaching, seeing her smile, and his lips twitched with a smile in return.

"Jamie, come let me clean your hands," Hershel encouraged, motioning her over to where he was sitting with a tube of cream and some bandages.

Knowing better than to fight against the old man's orders, Jamie straddled the bench to face him, offering up her right, dominant, hand first. Hershel was quick as he worked, smearing the cream on her hand to sooth and clean the wounds before he wrapped and tapped the bandages tightly around her palm.

"Thanks," she said in honestly as she looked down at her palms. Thankfully, her fingers didn't need to be wrapped, so she was left only with a strip of white around the center of her hands. "How often should I change these?" she asked, more just to fill the silence in the room.

"At least once a day, but also if anything happens to make them dirty," he explained easily, the gentle tone of his voice soothing everyone in the room. He was like the kind, wise old grandfather that everyone loved. Jamie could just imagine him telling stories with everyone hanging on to his every world. Just because of his voice.

"Hey," Carl called softly, gaining the blonde's attention. "Do you want to hold her for a bit?" he asked quietly, motioning down to the baby girl in his arms. She was still crying, but it wasn't a piercing wale like most babies. Nodding her head, Jamie rose from the bench and moved over to sit next to Carl, carefully transferring the baby between them.

Cooing down at the little body in her arms, Jamie made the same rocking motion that Carl had been in hopes of soothing the tiny baby. "Aren't you just a little miracle," Jamie cooed to her, stroking at a chubby cheek with her thumb. They had wrapped her up in an older shirt, one of Lori's, since it was a softer material than Carl's vest. She was still naked beneath, since they hadn't gotten the chance to get diapers yet. "You are a gift, and you are hope," she continued to whisper.

Carl and Beth watched as Jamie's hardened exterior seemed to completely deteriorate, leaving behind a woman with just as much motherly instinct as any other.

"Maybe we should name her Hope," Beth offered, watching as Jamie rocked the baby, continuing to whisper to her.

Everyone looked up when the gate to the cellblock opened up, Maggie rushing in and immediately calling for Beth's help. Daryl followed right after, pulling off his poncho and bag as he made a beeline for Jamie and the baby. "How's she doin'?" he asked as soon as he was close enough, looking down at the crying infant.

Jamie stood up when Daryl moved to take the baby, the more even height letting him scoop the baby up more easily. As soon as she was cradled in Daryl's arms, Jamie moved to stand beside him so she could watch the baby's face. She quieted a bit when she was first switched to Daryl's arms, but soon began crying again. Beth quickly came over with a bottle of formula, handing it to Daryl while he kept the baby cradled in one, strong arm. Making soft shushing sounds the entire time, Daryl lightly continued to rock her as he brought the bottle to her lips.

"Come on, come on," he encouraged as he rubbed the nipple of the bottle against her bottom lip. The crying in the room disappeared when she took to the bottle, sucking on it soundly. Jamie smiled broadly as the nerves in her stomach disappeared, knowing that she would be okay. Placing a hand on Daryl's back, he looked over to her with a smile to match hers.

Everyone else in the room watched with happiness and relief as their newest addition drank from the bottle, so relieved that this was one life they were able to save.

"She got a name yet?" Daryl asked after a moment, continuing to rock from side to side as he looked to Carl, the only one related to her.

"No, no yet," Carl mumbled out. "I was thinkin'…maybe Sophia…'cause we lost Carol, too," he explained, seeing the pain on Daryl's face. He and Carol had always been close, ever since Daryl had taken on the responsibility of finding Sophia once she ran. "And," Carl continued, "Andrea. Amy," he listed off. "Jacqui. Patricia." Jamie looked down at him as he stuttered over the next name, "Or…Lori. I don't know."

Knowing that the topic was sensitive, Daryl looked down at the baby as she drank the formula. "Huh? You like that? Little ass-kicker?" Jamie let out a teary laugh as she looked up to Daryl in amusement, seeing that he was grinning and doing all he knew to keep the mood away from morbid. He smirked back at her before looking around at the others, amusement shining in their eyes as well. "Right? That's a good name, right?"

It had the desired effect as even Carl let out a giggle of amusement.

"Huh? You like that, little ass-kicker? You like that, sweetheart?"

"Sounds perfect," Jamie whispered to Daryl, drawing his eyes over to her. Jamie looked away from the baby to meet his baby-blue eyes, lifting her hand from on his back to stroke her knuckles along his cheek and jaw. Daryl seemed to be glowing, surprisingly natural in his fatherly element.

Leaning down, he kissed her lips quickly. He couldn't stop smiling.

The next day started slowly for those who had put themselves on baby-detail. Maggie and Beth made a late breakfast for everyone after they had made up more formula for the baby. Jamie had volunteered to feed her this time, sitting on the steps next to Daryl as she gently rocked her from side to side. He was eating his food as he watched her, ever so vigilant over the baby.

He was dead serious about keeping her alive. He would move heaven and earth to keep her safe.

Beth came over with a towel afterword, draping it over her shoulder for when she had to burp her. Daryl had learned the hard way the night before that babies spittle and throw up quite a bit. He'd really only just made a sound of disgust before carefully handing her over to a giggling Jamie, leaving to clean off his leather vest and arm.

Thankfully, she only burped and spat up some of the formula for Jamie, the cloth on her shoulder catching the mess and saving her shirt. Fed and burped, the little ass-kicker seemed content to go back to sleep again.

"You'd make an excellent mum," Daryl whispered to her as he watched her rock the baby back to sleep, using the cloth to clean around her mouth as she put the bottle aside to be cleaned. "Still don't want kids?"

"I think I'm too terrified to have kids now," she answered honestly, looking over to Daryl with clear hazel eyes. He was glad to see that they weren't all murky and confused like the day before. Still a bit red from crying and rubbing at them, but she was of sound mind, mostly, after what had happened with Lori. "Who knew you'd be a better mum than me, though," she teased, keeping a hold of the baby with one arm while the only reached up to jokingly pinch at Daryl's cheek.

"Shudup," he slurred out, swatting her hand away as resuming his meal. Jamie shifted her focus back to the baby, whose eyes were closed with sleep. Her lips were opening and closing adorably, so small but so plump. Jamie could now understand why people always went crazy over having a baby, or seeing a newborn.

"Everybody okay?"

The voice surprised everyone into looking up, spotting Rick at the door that led into the tombs.

"Yea, we are," Maggie answered for them all, sitting up slightly straighter at her table.

Jamie could tell that he had cleaned up before coming back, with his hair wet and slicked back, his face clean of blood. Shifting her hold on the baby, Daryl reached over to stop her from getting up too soon. He wasn't too sure, but it was a bit blurred whether or not Rick would take to the baby after the way he had first reacted. He wouldn't go near her when Maggie brought her out, but ran right for Lori's body when Jamie came from the tombs with her.

Sharing a silent look with him, Jamie nodded in understanding and remained where she was.

"What about you?" Hershel was asking Rick, watching as the man hesitantly approached them.

No one dared say a word, watching Rick with as much discretion as they could. It wasn't that they were afraid of him, but it was hard to tell how he really was. Glenn had briefly explained what happened in the tunnels, how he had grabbed his throat when he tried to take his axe away. Rick was unstable at the moment.

"I cleared out the boiler block," Rick answered, looking down at the floor to avoid the stares.

"How many were there?" Daryl asked from beside Jamie, his voice gruff.

"I don't know, a dozen, two dozen," he answered to avoid the real truth. Most of the tunnels and other blocks were overrun, there was no way it was only two dozen. Daryl seemed to believe him just as much as Jamie did as they watched him with doubt. "I have to get back, I just wanted to check on Carl." Patting his son on the back, Carl didn't exactly seem welcoming to the touch. He refused to look at his father.

"Rick!" Glenn called to stop the man before he could leave again. "We can handle taking out the bodies. You don't have to."

"No, I do," Rick answered, looking over to meet Jamie's hazel eyes.

Her blood went cold as she realized why he was looking at her. It was the walker in the generator room, the one that had nearly gotten to Lori. He probably found the mess left behind from the birth and seen the walker. It wasn't that hard to put together.

Looking away from her, Rick asked Daryl, "Everyone have a gun and a knife?"

"Yea, we're running low on ammo, though," he answered calmly. Everyone noticed that he didn't approach where Jamie was holding the baby.

"Maggie and I were planning on making a run this afternoon," Glenn started, turning Rick's attention back to him. "Found a phone book, with some places that we can hit, look for bullets and formula."

"We cleared out the generator room; Axel's there trying to fix it in case of emergency," Daryl explained quickly. "We're gunna sweep the lower levels as well." With a simple repetition of 'good', Rick strode from the room faster than they could stop him, even when Hershel called out for the younger man uselessly.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, Jamie carefully stood up from her place on the stairs to hand the baby over to Beth. Since she had spent most of her time with Lori and her father, she was already accustomed to staying in the block and had volunteered to watch over the baby.

Hershel and Daryl had rather effectively teamed up on Jamie and told her to take the day away from walkers and the tunnels, with the excuse about her hands. She had even gone so far as to say she'd wear the gloves, but they wouldn't hear it. However, she wasn't about to let them win and instead was able to convince they to let her go with Glenn and Maggie on a run for ammo and formula.

It was definitely more relaxing to run for ammunition and food than it was to go running through the tunnels. Although, she did feel distinctly like a third wheel when with Maggie and Glenn; as much as she loved them, they were too much into the whole PDA thing. She and Daryl weren't exactly shy, but they preferred not to kiss when people were around. Those two really didn't care.

Hopping down from the red truck as soon as Glenn parked, Jamie snatched her bag and gun from the backseat, checking both over quickly while Maggie checked the area for walkers.

"Clear outside," the woman called, moving back toward the other two. Grabbing Glenn, she pulled him in for a quick kiss that he quickly made longer.

"Oh, come on," Jamie groaned out dramatically, causing them to break apart with sheepish grins on their faces. "Go suck face in private, I'm gunna start raiding," she continued, pulling out the bolt cutters that they had brought along with them for the chained up doors.

"Please, like you and Daryl are so innocent," Maggie teased.

"Hey, at least we suck face when we're alone," she retorted with a wink before squeezing the cutters closed and breaking the chains off. Maggie and Glenn shook their heads at her but stepped forward to back her up as she moved to open the doors.

Yelping in surprise a second later when a small cluster of birds went flying overhead, startling the three of them as they ducked out of the way. Looking back at the other two as they recovered, Jamie pulled out her penlight and clicked it on, popping it between her teeth. She had finally gotten new batteries for it, so she was able to use the damn thing without it constantly flickering on and off.

"Glenn, get that duck," Maggie called from the back of the group, guarding the entrance while Jamie and Glenn went inside for formula. Jamie nudged at Glenn to go and get it, but she focused on moving for the food section. It didn't seem like it had really been raided before, thankfully allowing them to get quite a bit of what they needed.

Jamie found a red shopping basket near the entrance and carried that with her over to the shelves of baby toys, bottles and other accessories.

Smiling around her flashlight in victory, Jamie was soon piling the basket full of formula. Glenn came over after a minute to help her out, taking the basket from her hands. She knew that he was doing it out of politeness and not because he thought she couldn't handle it. Shining her light around quickly, the blonde woman checked that there wasn't anything else to catch her eye before she slipped through the darkness of the store toward the exit. It was the only source of light in the entire building and that made it seem blindingly bright.

"Straight shot," Glenn commented as they were loading the truck up. "Probably made it back in time for dinner," he added on, grinning over to Maggie, who smiled at Jamie as she chained the doors up again. It was a good place to come back to if they needed more baby things aside from food and diapers. They had gotten just about every single supply under the sun, but it was good to keep locked.

"I like the quiet," Maggie answered. "Back there, back home, you can always hear them outside the fence, no matter where you are."

"At least we know they can't get through the fence," Jamie replied easily as she handed the bolt cutters back over to Glenn.

"And where is it y'all good people are callin' home?"

Jamie actually dropped the flashlight from between her teeth at the voice, turning to face him with wide hazel eyes as the small black penlight clattered to the pavement under her feet. However, he seemed just as surprised to see her as she was to see him, his mouth dropping open in surprise to mirror Jamie as he lowered his gun away. His right hand wasn't there, she realized, but something metal with a knife covering the stump.

He outright laughed as he lowered down and placed his gun on the ground, Glenn and Maggie both stepping up on either side of Jamie with their guns out and aimed. She had been so surprised, she'd forgotten to draw the gun tucked in the back of her pants.

She never did end up giving it back to Daryl.

"Wow," he drawled out, "I never thought I'd see the day. Jay-Jay, the little blue bird came home!" he cried out in something that sounded like joy. When he moved to approach them, Jamie finally got a hold of herself and pulled her gun, aiming it directly at his face.

"One more step and I drop you where you stand, Merle. Don't think I won't. Brother be damned," she threatened, her eyes going cold.

"He's your brother?" Maggie asked. Jamie then realized that even if she and Glenn knew Merle, Maggie had never even heard of him before.

"No, he's Daryl's older brother," she answered in a low, cold voice. "And I already told Daryl that I'd shoot you in the ass the next time I saw you. I never go back on a promise, Merle, you know that." Merle just chuckled, still staring at her.

"So he found ya, huh? Never did give up, persistent little shit. He was always looking for you, wherever we went. If he ever saw someone with blonde hair, it may have been Angel-"

"Don't call me that," Jamie nearly shrieked. "Don't you fucking call me that, you have no right!" Her hazel eyes were livid as she stared at Merle, into those blue eyes that were just _too_ _much_ like Daryl's.

Merle's face got serious then, or as serious as he could be when he was covered in blood the way that he was. He'd gotten in a fight recently, she realized, and knew better than to trust him just because he'd put one gun down. "Just tell me, Jamie, is Daryl alive?"

Gritting her teeth, she _knew_ that it was just a ruse but she couldn't stop herself. "Yea, he's fine."

"Hey, you take me to him," Merle started, looking over her shoulder to Glenn instead, "and I'll call it even. No hard feelings about what happened over in Atlanta, huh?" he proposed. Glenn, however, didn't say anything and was instead just staring at the knife protruding from where his right hand had once been. "Oh, you like that?" Merle asked when he noticed his line of sight. "Yea, I –uh, I found myself a medical supply warehouse. Fixed it up myself-"

"Bullshit," Jamie snapped. "The closest you come to being medically inclined is how to apply a Band-Aid."

"We'll tell Daryl you're here, and he'll come out to meet you," Glenn finally answered, not wanting a fight to start between the two future-in-law siblings.

"Hold on there, not just hold up. Hold up," Merle tried to argue, stepping closer and causing Jamie to move forward as well, keeping her gun aimed between his eyes. "Hey, the fact that we found each other is a miracle. Come on now, you can trust me-"

"It's not goin' to happen, Merle," Jamie hissed out.

"Jamie," Glenn warned quietly. "You trust us," he said to Merle. "You stay here."

Merle looked less than pleased for a moment before he let out a tense chuckle. The sound put Jamie on edge and her finger lingered just over the trigger of her gun. The instant Merle ducked to the side she fired, nicking his shoulder with the bullet as he reached back to grab another gun that had been stashed in the back of his belt. He fired off as well, shooting out the back window of the truck.

Maggie and Glenn dove away at the ringing of gunshots, not knowing who was firing at whom. It wouldn't surprise either of them to know that Jamie shot Merle or that Merle had shot at them, but it was concerning whether one of their own got hit.

Stumbling to the side as glass exploded around her, Merle's entire bodyweight suddenly slammed into Jamie and threw them both to the ground. She tried to raise her gun, but it didn't even make it to aiming at his person before the knife attached to his stump arm cut at her forearm. Forced to drop her gun, Jamie shrieked in pain and was left to let Merle grab at her around the neck, aiming the gun for her head.

"Let her go!" Glenn shouted upon seeing her in Merle's hold.

"Hey now, buddy don't go and get this rushed. You know what Daryl'd do if he found out you got his precious Jay-Jay shot?"

"Shoot him, Glenn," Jamie growled out through clenched teeth, her arm throbbed from the cut she had been dealt.

"Awe, don't go and get all noble on me now, blue bird," Merle taunted, his breath ghosting her cheek and making her scowl in anger and disgust. "Now, you and your girl there are gunna put your guns in the car, right there. Do it!" Glenn still hesitated but ended up tossing his gun though the shattered back window, Maggie doing the same once she knew that Glenn had done as he was told. She didn't want to get either Jamie or Glenn shot.

"There ya go," Merle appraised. "Now, we're gunna go for a little drive."

"We're not going back to our camp," Glenn argued.

But Merle shook his head. "Get in the car, Glenn! You're driving!"

Grabbing Jamie by the hair and picking up her discarded gun, Merle tossed that into the back as well. Jamie gritted her teeth and groaned in pain at the feeling of her hair getting tugged in such a violent way. She knew that it would sting for the rest of the day. Merle used his hold on her to get her around to the passenger side, Maggie getting in the back upon his orders. Jamie, however, was forced in between Glenn and Merle in the front, the gun aimed at her jaw.

Her face was set in a deep scowl the entire time, one hand clenching her bleeding arm as she tried to ignore the pain.

 


	12. Copper on My Tongue

Jamie woke up with a terrible ache in her head, the side seeming to throb like it had its own heartbeat. She was sitting upright, that much she could tell, and her hands were bound. Pulling her arms, she couldn't move them from behind her. With the sting from her wrists, she knew it was tape—probably duct tape. Must have been like that for a while. It was in the next instant that she remembered why she was waking up in the first place, the pull on her hair as Merle shouted, her head hitting the metal of the truck when she tried to fight against him.

Merle.

She was going to kill that son of a bitch.

"Jamie?"

Maggie's voice called through the otherwise silent room, causing Jamie to jump in surprise as her eyes snapped open. There was a table in front of her, no one sitting across it, but glancing to her right Maggie was sitting in a position identical to hers. "Where are we?" Jamie croaked out, her voice raw from screaming at Merle. He had hauled her from the truck somewhere and she immediately began to freak out, kicking and screaming at him.

"You kicked Merle in the balls," Maggie told her with a stricken look on her face.

"I did? So that's why my head hurts," Jamie muttered before she blinked rapidly to clear her vision properly.

"He brought us to some kind town, but we're in an abandoned building. Glenn's in another room." Maggie was keeping her voice low, trying not to draw attention to them talking. Jamie look a closer look at her, seeing that she was pale white with fear. Jamie wasn't sure whether that fear was from the situation in general, or because Glenn was somewhere else and they didn't know if he was alright.

"What happened?" Jamie asked in an equally low voice.

"Merle…he...he already spoke with Glenn. Glenn did something to him and he beat him," her voice was beginning to waver as she thought back to him. She was almost in tears. "It sounded so bad-"

"Maggie, shh, you know how strong Glenn is. It'll be alright," Jamie tried to assure, but in truth she didn't know. Merle was ruthless before, but now? He probably didn't have a care about beating up a restrained man, or killing someone who was innocent and couldn't defend themselves. Merle was probably worse than ever, and that could very well mean that Glenn was dead for going against whatever Merle wanted to know.

He was probably still looking for where they had set down.

"He got beat so bad, Jamie. I don't know if he's okay," she stuttered out.

"Maggie, you need to keep calm," Jamie snapped when the other woman seemed to begin hyperventilating.

A bang suddenly made both women jump, startled to see Merle enter the room. Jamie immediately tensed up, her shoulders locking forward like a cornered animal ready to strike out. The movement exposed the strong cords of muscle and tendons in her shoulders and arms, making her seem bigger. Maggie, as terrified as she was of Merle and what he could have done to Glenn, realized that this was Jamie's pathological response to the man. She had gone the same thing upon first seeing him in the parking lot.

Jamie's initial response to Merle Dixon was to appear bigger, stronger, and unafraid.

"Let's go and have a chat, sweetheart," Merle cooed as he looked straight at Jamie. Another man was standing behind him with a shotgun, ready for someone to make the wrong move. He didn't seem very sure, however, as he looked at the two women before him. Maggie was trembling, unsure, and didn't appear as an outward threat. Jamie, while appearing more menacing than Maggie, didn't seem like the kind to strike unless provoked first. He doubted the woman could kill anything other than a walker.

Gritting her teeth, knowing not to speak out again, Jamie just let Merle cut the tape around her wrists and haul her to her feet. Jamie shared a quick look with Maggie, hoping to reassure the woman that she would be okay, before she was led from the old, musty smelling room.

Merle's remaining hand was holding her arm, the same one he had cut to get her gun out of her hand, and he was guiding her through old, wooden halls. Electricity was what lit their way and Jamie was almost amazed by it. They hadn't been somewhere with power since Hershel's farm. It had been a long, cold and dark winter with only the heaters in the vehicles to give them warmth on their travels.

Being led to another room, separate from Glenn or Maggie's, Jamie was instructed to another chair but this time was left without her arms being bound.

The other man left immediately, leaving Merle and Jamie alone.

"Gotta say, you've changed a lot since I last saw ya," Merle started, taking a seat on the edge of the table in front of her. It was old, and creaked under his weight. Jamie's jaw was locked and tense as she looked up at him, her hands resting on her lap in case she needed to move quickly and use them to defend herself. "You used to be a spoiled little thing, but look at you now. Scarred and thin," he taunted, almost seeming to laugh.

"It's been a rough year," she muttered in response, never taking her eyes off of him. Daryl had a lighter shade of blue for his eyes; Merle's were closer to navy. But the resemblance, sadly, was there.

Merle seemed to take her in, from the hollowness of her cheeks to the faint scars that had accumulated since the outbreak. "How long have you been with Daryl? Last I saw him, you were pretty far gone from the picture."

"I was actually with Rick," Jamie answered, wanting to sneer when she said it. "We got separated in Atlanta, just before he met you. Went back to try and save your sorry ass, and Daryl and I ended up running into each other. I've been with the group ever since," she explained very briskly, seeing the tick in his jaw at the mention of Rick.

"Ain't that just sweet," he sneered down at her. "Still all the same assholes of the group?"

Smirking up at him, Jamie didn't say a word.

That was one thing that Merle could never stand. "Answer me!" he shouted as he leaned forward, spitting in her face from the volume of his tone and the proximity to her face. Jamie closed her eyes, but didn't even flinch. Lifting a hand to wipe her face calmly, Jamie only looked at him again once she was sure nothing was going to get in her eyes or mouth.

"Your manners are even worse," she grumbled, wiping her hand on her pants. The gauze was gone from around her palm, but the scabs would keep her from getting anything in the wounds for the time being. She found it surprising that the scabs didn't open up in her struggle. "And you can go blow it out your ass, Merle, because you're getting dick all from me," she finished, cold gold in her gaze.

"Little Jay-Jay got a back-bone?" Merle chuckled, leaning back again to try and get a height advantage. But she wasn't scared of Merle, she may have been at one point in the past, but she's seen greater nightmares in real life than Merle Dixon. "Whadya know, maybe you'll fit in with the family after all."

Shaking her head, Jamie smirked again. "Not with you, Merle. Daryl and I have our own family, with Rick and the others. Just because you were born as brothers doesn't mean that's how it stays." Merle looked furious at her words, and she was sure he was ready to hit her. "Did I strike a nerve? It must burn you to know that Rick has been a better brother to Daryl than you ever were."

"You cunt, you don't even fuckin' know what you're talkin' about!" Merle snarled, grabbing her shirt with one hand and moving to hit her with the metal covering on the remainder of his other arm.

"Go ahead, Merle, hit me. Hit me as hard and as many times as you want, then we'll see how much your brother _loves_ you. Mark me up and let him see, because not even blood could stop him from tearing you apart. A broken nose would be the least of your worries," she growled right back, spurring him on, trying to make him angry. "That's all you've ever done, isn't it, Merle? Just drove him away, just caused him pain!"

Merle's first tightened around her shirt, his arm remaining up to strike, but he didn't move.

"You know it, too. When were you ever a brother to him, Merle? When he was bailing you out of jail, or when you were too fuckin' high to remember that he even existed? What about when you abandoned him and left to let him take the brunt of your dad's anger-"

This time he did hit her, striking her right against her cheekbone. It wasn't hard enough to break the bone, but she knew that it was going to swell up and turn many shades of purple before long. The pain she was already feeling in her head only increased, leaving her disoriented.

"Guess that's one more," she slurred out, feeling that the metal around the stump had also cut open her lip. Licking at it to taste the coppery blood, Jamie looked up to meet Merle's crazed blue eyes. "Just another one for the list: beatin' his wife."

Clearly, this was news to Merle. Daryl told her that he knew they were engaged, but he hadn't realized they'd do anything. Technically, they weren't married. But ever since Jamie introduced herself to the prisoners as 'Dixon' they had been calling Jamie and Daryl married, referring to them as husband or wide instead of fiancé like before.

"Yea, Merle, he'd be so proud to have you as a brother," she sneered up at him, blood coating her teeth from the split in her upper lip.

She guessed it was because he didn't want to end up hitting her again, but Merle stormed from the room after that, the sound of chains locking her in following his exit. Since she was alone again, Jamie let herself wince heavily and lift a hand to her cheek, feeling the tender skin and knowing that it was a brilliant red from the hit she'd taken. She was just glad he didn't have the knife attached to the end.

Even her neck hurt from how fast her head had whipped to the side.

 

 

Back at the prison, the others were trying to figure out how to take the appearance of the black woman outside of the prison, carrying a red basket of formula. Of course, she hardly seemed to trust them, either. Taking her sword away was for the best, even though Rick could understand someone's dependency on their weapon in the world they live in.

When Rick confronted her about why she was carrying formula with her, she didn't seem like she was going to tell them, before she confessed that the basket was dropped by an Asian that was travelling with two women.

"What happened?" Rick had asked, already more alert to know that they supplies had been with Glenn, Maggie and Jamie.

"Were they attacked?" Hershel demanded, already fearing the worst for his daughter and a man he was coming to see as his son.

The woman's eyes looked over at him for a moment, watching as he rose up onto his one leg, no longer able to just sit with the news that something had gone wrong on the run. "They were taken," she corrected. Rick stepped into her line of sight, bringing her attention back to him, questioning about how had taken them. "By the same son of a bitch who shot me," was her growled answer, the pain clear on her face when the topic brought it back to the forefront of her mind.

"Hey, these are our people," Rick reminded her. "You tell us what happened _now_ ," he demanded, his voice starting out soft and calming before he shouted the final word while grabbing at the bullet wound in her leg, using the existing injury to cause her pain. She immediately jumped up and away from Rick, hissing at him not to touch her.

Daryl, however, had raised his crossbow at her the second she moved, aiming it at her head. He didn't really want to shoot her, for the soul reason that she was the only one who could tell them where Jamie was. "You better start talking, or you're gunna have a much bigger problem than a gunshot wound," he threatened, raising his voice as he spoke. He wasn't going to let some skittish woman get in the way of him saving both Jamie and his friends.

She looked Daryl right in the eye, over the arrow pointing at her face. "Find 'em yourself."

Daryl seemed to let out a growl at her choice of answer, his blue eyes going cold as she stared into them. Rick, however, didn't want Daryl doing something out of anger that he would later regret and gently placed a hand on the crossbow. "Hey, shh, shh, shh. Put it down." Even as he was instructing the redneck, he was looking at the woman.

She was breathing heavy, from more than pain and blood-loss, they all knew. It was never easy to stare down someone who was quite focused on killing you, when you had no way out of it.

But Daryl stepped back and Rick moved in front of the black woman, staring her down. "You came here for a reason," he chose to remind her. Those seemed to be the right words, because she looked away from him a moment, thinking on it. He was right, too. Why else would she brave the walkers that surrounded the prison just to bring a basket of formula to a group of people she didn't know?

"There's a town," she finally stated, briefly meeting Rick's eyes before looking away again. "Woodbury, about seventy-five survivors; I think they were taken there."

"A whole town?" Rick asked, unbelieving.

"It's run by this guy who calls himself the Governor—pretty boy, charming, Jim Jones type."

Daryl realized that someone who came away with a description like that couldn't control a whole town and walkers on his own. "He got muscle?" he asked, remaining where he was standing behind Rick. He knew that the man had a plan on how to talk to her, since she was beginning to confess to what she knew, now.

"Paramilitary wannabes," she answered, sounding disgusted and annoyed. "They have armed sentries on every wall."

"You know a way in?" Rick asked, cocking his head to the side. So long as he could keep her talking, he would get the information they needed. He didn't want to kill her, so he'd learn all he could, fix her up and possibly send her on her way.

"The place is secure from walkers, but we could slip our way through," she answered, sounding confident. The 'we' in the statement helped Rick. To have her there would help them somewhat, since she knew the town and could actually get there and in using the proper knowledge of the place. She didn't seem to mind having to break their rules, either. Someone did something to piss her off, and Rick could tell she was the wrong person to piss off.

"How'd you know how to get here?"

"They mentioned a prison," the woman answered blatantly, "Said which direction it was in, said it was a straight shot."

Rick stared down at her, trying to gauge if she was speaking in all honesty. So far, he could tell that she had been telling the truth. Glancing over to where Hershel stood just to the side, he motioned over to the man. "This is Hershel, the father of the brunette that was taken." Turning then to where Daryl was standing behind him, he continued. "And this is Daryl, the husband of the blonde woman that was taken. You best hope he doesn't find out you're lying." The woman didn't back down from Rick's stare, which he would admit to admiring. "Hershel will take care of your leg."

Merle didn't come back to see Jamie, but a while after he had stormed out the chains were taken off of the door and another man walked in. He looked like a business man, like someone Jamie would remember seeing sitting behind a desk at a bank. He was old enough that his hair was starting to grey in places and there were wrinkles on his face.

His eyes were dead.

They were missing any warmth that normal people possessed. Even Merle had more life in his eyes than this man, and that immediately set Jamie on edge.

"Merle tells me your name is Jamie," he began, offering a smile that reminded Jamie of a carnival mask. "It's nice to meet you, Jamie. And I do have to apologize for what happened; Merle can sometimes be…hard to control."

"Not if you pull on the leash tight enough," she answered back blandly, staring him down. He chuckled at her answer before taking a seat across the table from her, instead of the approach Merle had taken where he sat on the table, so he could be above her. Something was off about this man, she could tell, but he was also intelligent. It was more than likely that he had gone to Maggie already, trying to get something out of her first.

That only made Jamie worry, though, since she knew Maggie wouldn't say anything, but she was easier to traumatize.

"Your friends have spirit, you know. But you have more, I can see that for myself. You must have seen some pretty horrible things out there on the road-"

"Is this our friendly heart to heart?" Jamie interrupted, getting tired of his act. "Is this when you expect me to feel all safe and warm, tell you everything you want to know?" The friendly smile slipped from the man's face as she spoke, her words colder than shards of ice as she leaned forward in her chair. "You want information? Alright, how about this. Let us go now, and your shit will not be completely fucked up by the end of the week."

The man laughed, knocked on the table like a nervous twitch. "You really think your friends are coming to save you? They don't even know your missing."

"The second we didn't come back on time, we were missing. The second we're considered missing, you just fucked yourself up the ass—and I wasn't talking about my friends. I've been through a lot of shit to get to where I am, to be with the people that I have around me, and I'm not about to let a bitch like you _dare_ get in the way of that."

The man rose sharply to his feet, his hands slamming down on the table, before Jamie used her seated position to kick the table from underneath, tipping it up before throwing its weight at the man across from her. He cursed loudly as he pushed the table aside, spotting Jamie standing now, in front of her tipped back chair. She was standing almost normally, but her entire body was a taut as a bow string and there was threat in her eyes.

In some distant way, she reminded him of Merle. She was caged and dangerous, willing to risk whatever she could.

"I'm going to go down to that prison, and I'm gunna kill every single one of your precious friends," the man threatened lowly. Jamie refused to react, but she knew that this man had done something with Maggie and Glenn to get one of them to confess. The very thought caused her stomach to clench painfully in concern, but she _refused_ to react. They didn't have Daryl to threaten her with, so there wasn't much they could do with her. It explained why she'd been left alone most of the time. "I know where they are now; and I'll find everyone precious to you and have you watch as they die."

"Only if you live long enough," Jamie snarled back. Taking a step straight back, the man banged a fist on the door and it opened up for him, a gun trained on Jamie so that he would leave without her attacking him. "Be seeing you again soon!" she called tauntingly, her voice echoing in her box of a room.

Beginning to pace the length of the room she was stuck in, Jamie fumed in silent rage that she was stuck in that godforsaken shithole. Sitting in that room made it feel more like a prison cell than her home in C Block ever did. Unable to just sit and do nothing, Jamie continued to pace, trying to think.

"You fucking, poxy bastards!" Jamie screamed suddenly, turning to beginning slamming the bottom of her boot against the metal of the door, continuing to cuss them out as she did so.

Things were just going wrong. She goes and gets taken by Merle, hit by Merle, threatened by a soulless asshole and to top it all off they knew where all of her friends were. Where Daryl was. Where a baby was. They would kill them. All of them. Continuing to throw kicks against the door, screaming her rage, Jamie only stopped in brief surprise when the door opened suddenly, Merle standing on the other side.

"That was some colourful language for a lady," Merle commented, grinning in amusement.

Her anger wasn't gone, not by a long shot, so Jamie shrieked in absolute frustration as she charged a very unsuspecting Merle, knocking him back and off of his feet. She should have taken the chance to run, she could very easily have done so as she knew she was much faster that he was, but she didn't. Instead, she kneeled over the older brother of her husband and threw punches, left, right, left, right, bloodying his face even as he bruised her ribs and stomach with hits of his own, the metal on the casting for his missing hand causing the most damage.

"It's your fault," she shouted, beginning to slap at him when punches took too much time. "He's gunna die and it's all _your fucking fault_! You killed your own goddamned brother!"

"Enough!" Merle roared and grabbed Jamie to throw her off of him, slamming her into the wall next to the door she had just thrown her and Merle through. "Daryl's still alive! I didn't kill anyone!"

"You think he's gunna be left alive?" Jamie hissed out as she rose to her full height, glaring at Merle where he was taking a bit more time to do the same. She didn't move to attack again, but trembled in her fury. "Did your fearless leader tell you that? You and I both know that the second he sees Daryl's no use to him, he's dead. And then, once Daryl's gone and you find out, he'd kill you, too. Haven't you realized it, yet? You're expendable to him!"

"And you're so fuckin' precious?" Merle snarled back at her, wiping at the blood that was pouring down his face because of Jamie's assault. He didn't realize that the tiny woman before him was as strong as those punches were.

"I'd be missed if I was gone," she hissed out, shaking her bloody knuckles. "What about you, Merle? What have you ever done to be proud of? For once in your fuckin' life, do the right thing! You know it, Merle, I know that you do—Daryl will die if you let that man get near the prison."

"He promised he wouldn't touch Daryl," Merle insisted.

"For Christ's sake, you believe him? What about when Daryl finds out that I'm here? Don't think he won't, either. Daryl will kick up a fit, then be killed, and the you'll kick up and fit and meet the same fucking fate," Jamie shouted at Merle. "The only people you can trust are family, and you're turning your back on the only family you have left."

Marching forward, Jamie didn't resist when Merle grabbed her arm in an iron grip and yanked her back toward her cell of a room. "He done more for me than you've ever done. Than your group ever done," Merle hissed in her ear before she was shoved inside. "Rot in here for all I care. Daryl'll be none the wiser."

Slamming and chaining up the door, Jamie was left alone once more.

Refusing to waste her time like she had been before, Jamie began to look around the room. It was a box of metal walls, with a door chained on the outside. No vents were visible, but it wasn't meant to be a sealed room; the walls didn't meet the roof at the top, leaving a crack between the metal that Jamie couldn't draw her eyes from. Pushing the table over to right in front of the door, she thanked her height and stood on the surface to get a better look at the setup.

"Any architect's worst nightmare," she muttered to herself, pulling at the metal on the roof down to see how loose it was. Screws went through the metal into the wooden support beams all around. The metal was too thick to bend, so she couldn't escape it on her own.

However, she was able to get a good view of the hallway and realized that if she could knock out the light, she could get around a lot better in the dark than the meatheads guarding her.

After moving the table out of the way, Jamie picked up the chair she had once been sitting in before taking a deep breath and letting loose a blood curdling scream, stinging her abused throat in the process. Even when she ran out of air, she just took another breath and starting again, continuing to scream and scream, sounding like something was eating her alive.

"Shut her up!"

"Someone's gunna fuckin' hear her!"

Still screaming even when the voices were outside her door, Jamie prepared herself for the inevitable. The door flew open in the man's panic to silence her, not taking the time to assess what he was running into, and Jamie swung the chair as hard as she could right at the man's face. He dropped like a stone, his gun clattering to the floor as the man behind him shouted in distress. Retrieving the gun before he could react, Jamie put a bullet in his chest before he registered the importance of lifting his own weapon in defense.

Collecting both guns from the men, she moved to leave them behind before she spotted a familiar hilt protruding from the second man's pants' belt. Retrieving Daryl's knife, cutting the man in the process without even caring about it, Jamie carefully wrapped it in a torn strip of the man's shirt and stuck it down in her boot, far enough to keep it hidden. She didn't need that getting taken again.

Call it sentimental.

Shooting out the overhead lights as she went, Jamie marched the black halls, searching for an exit. Whether it was a window or a door, she was going to be leaving that decrepit building. It was shockingly abandoned after the two guards, but she knew that only meant there was something else they were focusing on.

Finding what had once been the front of the building, Jamie knelt down in the dusty windows, the blackness of the building hiding her in the shadows. Watching as fake soldiers and citizens of the town ran around, she knew the something had gone wrong. Had Rick and the others made it to the town? Were Glenn and Maggie safe?

Waiting for a break in the crowd, Jamie only left the building when the streets were nearly vacant. One gun strapped across her back and the other in her hand, Jamie stuck to the sides of the buildings, away from the fires that lit the street, and headed straight. She didn't know her way around, but she knew that heading straight for a long enough time would lead her to the edge. She could find her way back to the prison from here.

The cocking of a gun forced her to stop cold.

"I should've known you'd be the one to cause trouble," the soulless man from before said, his voice eerily calm. Jamie barely turned her head to look over her shoulder at him, catching the light reflecting off of his gun as it was trained at the back of her head. Her hazel eyes looked golden in the light from the fires, but it was a cold most related to that of an exotic dagger, deadly and beautiful. Gold was often compared to being a warm colour, but at the moment it had never looked _more jagged_.

Her eyebrow twitched as she took in his appearance, her hand itching to raise her own gun on him. "Who fucked up your face, so I can shake their hand?" she mocked, smirking at the clear wound to his bandaged eye. It was gushing blood through the bandage, which left her to believe that he didn't _have_ an eye anymore.

The man didn't answer, however, but swung the butt of his gun up to catch Jamie's nose, sending her crashing backward from the well-aimed hit. Two men easily got a hold of her from then on, stripping her of the guns that she had collected from the two men outside of her 'cell'. They were less than gentle as they pulled the strips from her shoulder, deliberately elbowing and grabbing at her.

However, she nearly sneered in satisfaction that they didn't find the hunting knife shoved down her boot. Licking the blood off of her top lip, Jamie looked up to look into the man's remaining eye before a bag was pulled violently over her head, leaving her blind.


	13. I'll Be Your Conscience

Getting caught was shameful enough, but to be tied up with a sac over his head was downright embarrassing. Daryl was less than pleased as he was pushed around and carted through the darkness like he was a damn dog on a leash. He'd fallen behind, got separated from the others while looking for Jamie, and was fucking ambushed the second he left the smokescreen they had created for themselves. He could only hear what was going on around him, leaving him on edge when he heard nothing but voices over the din of night, what must have been near a hundred people around him as he began to register light through the covering on his head.

" _This is one of the terrorists,_ " an unfamiliar voice called over the din of conversations, but Daryl was trying to focus on getting out of the hold he was in. But he was released suddenly by the two that were holding him, free only for a moment before another hand grabbed his arm and drew him forward. He tried to pull away from yet another controlling hold, but he was disoriented with the lack of ability to see.

However, that didn't stay a problem when the sac was pulled from Daryl's head so suddenly he winced against the light of fires burning and brilliant outdoor lighting around them.

"Merle's own brother," the man holding his arm shouted over the people, their voices rising in uproar. Daryl was left to stare forward in surprise as he registered his brother, the man everyone told him would be dead, standing only a couple of yards away. The Governor shoved Daryl out of his hold, but Daryl could only stare forward at his elder sibling in shock. So it had been Merle, all along. What had he done to Jamie, taking her off somewhere else? Did he beat her, like he did with Glenn? Try to get information out of her?

Then again, Merle wasn't looking too hot. He had a busted lip and cuts all over his face. He looked like he got into a fight with someone that could hold their own. Daryl kind of wondered whether it was Glenn or Jamie, before he remembered how much Jamie hated his brother and leaned more toward the latter. Looking over the damage, Daryl couldn't help but be proud of the woman that he loved—even if she had beaten the shit out his only blood relation left alive.

But what was more surprising was that a couple yards away, Andrea was standing in the circle of bystanders as well. With the look of absolute shock on her face, however, it was pretty clear that she was definitely not aware of what had been going on in the shadows of Woodbury.

"What should we do with them, huh?" the Governor called over the people, finally coming into Daryl's line of sight. He looked like a rather pathetic man, maybe tall, but without an ounce of fight. Even Jamie could kick his ass. One of his eyes were bandaged over as well, the white gauze seeped with red. Someone had already gotten to him.

" _Kill them_!" was shouted from the crown by one man before many more took up a chant of agreement, shouting for the Governor to kill the two men inside the circle of bystanders.

Listening to the raised voices of the people in the town, Daryl's and Merle's met eyes across the arena, both unsure how the hell they were going to get out of that one. Merle couldn't seem to grasp that it was actually happening. Jamie's words had been painfully accurate.

_You're expendable to him!_

_He'll kill you, too._

_You killed your own goddamned brother!_

Watching the Governor walk up to him, Merle almost felt bad for the thin blonde woman with the killer right hook. They would kill her just as soon as he and Daryl were both out of the way, there was no doubt about that. If they hadn't killed her already—this was also quite likely. "You wanted your brother," the taller man said as he stepped in front of Merle. "Now you got him."

_The only people you can trust are family, and you're turning your back on the only family you have left._

The Governor's actions became clear when he explained how things were going to go, pinning them against one another. _Brother against brother._ Whoever won was cut free, while the loser wouldn't even be alive to try.

"I ain't fightin' my own brother," Daryl claimed, his voice just barely heard over the cheers of people. Merle actually looked somewhat surprised to hear it, but Daryl wasn't shaken from his decision. His and Merle's attention was snapped to the Governor when he chuckled.

"I expected that from the younger sibling," he mocked. "But I always come prepared," he continued, motioning over to two of his man standing out of the crowd. "If Daryl won't fight his brother for the chance to go free, we'll just have to even the odds. If Merle wins he is showing us his loyalty, killing his own brother and keeping his place in Woodbury. But, if Daryl wins, he gets to leave with his life," the Governor explained. "And his wife."

The once excited calls died down to surprised murmurs before a woman's screaming and shrieking could be heard moments before two of the Governor's men stepped back through the circle of people, a struggling, kicking woman between them. One pulled the bag off of her head, blonde hair tumbling free as she continued to thrash in an attempt to escape. When she caught sight of Daryl, however, she went still.

Heaving for air, Jamie looked thoroughly feral.

Bruises were forming on her cheek where Daryl realized she must have been backhanded, her nose still dripping blood from a hit she must have taken quite recently, leaving it smearing across her top lip and right cheek. Her hazel eyes were clear, though, as she looked straight at him. Mouthing his name, he could see her top lip was split as well, crusted with dried blood.

"Now, will you fight your own brother?" the Governor questioned before he motioned over to Jamie. "If you refuse, she goes to the biters. And you terrorists will die together."

But Daryl wasn't doing anything, he was just watching Jamie. She looked so _afraid_ as she stared across at him, not for herself but for his sake. She knew that no matter how bad Merle was, Daryl would always love his elder brother. Being ordered to kill him or be killed by him was a torture that was much worse than anything physical they could have inflicted.

Then Merle punched him in the gut and threw him to the ground, breaking his stare down with Jamie. She lurched forward instinctively, but the men holding her didn't let her more than flinch in Daryl's direction. Merle moved forward to hit him again, but Daryl was ready this time and was able to take a swing at the other man, catching him across his already bruised face. Getting onto shaking legs, Daryl could hear Jamie scream his name and ducked away when a walker got too close to him.

The men were bringing in walkers on leashes.

"Fuck," Daryl curse before he charged to take another swing at his brother, but Merle had recovered already and used Daryl's momentum to toss him over his shoulder, slamming his back into the dirt. Using his one good hand to press down on Daryl's throat, he felt Daryl's hands grab at his neck as well, trying to fight against him while strangling him in return. "You really think that asshole's gunna let you go?" he choked out against Merle's hand.

However, he was not expecting the response. "Just follow my lead, little brother. We're getting out of this, _right now_."

Jamie had thought her heart had stopped altogether when Daryl went down from Merle's well aimed kidney shot, soon ending with them choking one another on the ground. She was just as surprised as the rest, however, when Merle helped his brother up and they stood back to back in the circle of walkers. She watched in shock for a moment as they took down the walkers before she finally regained her composure.

"So that's what we're doing?" she asked aloud, before slamming the heel of her boot down on the toes of the man to her right, seeing as he was rather distracted, causing him to bend forward in pain, where she then used her other foot to kick him in the face. The man to her left yanked hard on her arm, trying to stop her assault, but she used his momentum and threw her head against his in a very rough head-butt to his nose, more than likely breaking it.

She considered it retribution for her own nose, whether he was the cause or not.

Before Jamie could find something sharp to saw at her hand bindings, a gunshot rang out through the clearing, taking down a walker. Several more gunshots sounded and Jamie quickly lost track of who was dying as citizens of the town began to scream and run around like a colony of terrified ants. She ducked out of the way when a spray of sparks fell from overhead when the light was shot out, shaking her head so none lit her hair on fire.

"Daryl!" Jamie screamed, trying to see him even as she kept low, but the arena was filling with smoke from small bombs being thrown inside the clearing.

She recognized those bombs.

A shoulder collided very suddenly with her gut, almost knocking the wind out of the blonde, and she was hefted into the air abruptly. Immediately she began to wiggle in an attempt to get out of the hold. "It's me!"

"Rick!" Jamie shouted in surprise, but had no more time to say more when Rick took off running with her over one shoulder. From her viewpoint she spotted Daryl and Merle following after them from within the smoke, Daryl getting his crossbow back from one of the guards that had confiscated it from him. "Daryl!" she shouted, drawing his attention to her and Rick, Maggie appearing beside her with a rifle.

Putting her on her feet, Jamie was spun around before her hands fell free from their restricted place at her back. The duct tape was still wound around the joints, rather tight and beginning to irritate her skin. Rick didn't wait a moment longer and pulled her arm to guide her away from the camp, back toward the bordering of the town. She had no clue where they were or where they were going, so she just left her faith in her group and followed.

Daryl immediately caught up to her, both of them looking a little more than _just_ relieved to see each other still alive.

As they got further from the arena the town went quiet, only their group in that area. They could still hear the panicked screams from the townspeople, but didn't focus on that. Slowing their pace when they neared the wall, everyone began looking around for the best way out as Daryl stopped with Jamie to help her pull the duct tape off of her wrists. She swatted his hands away, however, since she had plenty of time to do so later, and instead pulled him down to place a desperate kiss on his lips.

Her hands shook against his cheeks, fingers feeling chilled in the night air, while her heart hammered in her chest. Daryl's arms were sturdy around her, holding her in place as he returned the desperate meet of skin on skin.

"Don't you fuckin' scare me like that again," she breathed out against his lips, her voice sounding rough.

"Come one, I know the best way out of here," Merle encouraged as he ran past the two, trying to lead them around the buses that acting as part of the town wall.

"You're not going anywhere with us," Rick shouted at the other man, his tone taking on a hard edge that Jamie recognized him to have used with Shane. Rick was in a state of fury—his family had been threatened and hurt, some almost killed. This was not a good time to test him.

"You really wanna do this _now_?" Merle demanded in disbelief. Knowing that they had no choice, Rick and Daryl kept watch while Merle opened up a section of paneling that was slightly weak from placement. Only with Daryl and Jamie's urging did Rick finally give in and follow after Merle through the hole in the wall.

As much as she hated the hick, Jamie knew that Merle would risk all he could to get Daryl out of there. And Daryl would only leave if they all went, so it worked in their favour. She wasn't about to put her life in his hands, but Merle had already risked his life to save Daryl once that night.

"Oh, shit!" Jamie rasped out as soon as she cleared the fence, seeing the dozen or so walkers that had come into the area because of the screaming citizens.

"We ain't got time for this!" Merle shouted before taking off in a specific direction. Appeared beside Jamie, Daryl urged her to follow while he tried to tell Rick to do the same. She could understand his doubt, she shared it, but if Merle was getting them out of there, she was going to have to follow his lead for the present moment.

"Stay close," Daryl told her, but paused when she bent to retrieve something from her boot. He couldn't stop himself from snorting when he saw the flash of familiar metal, spotting his hunting knife nestled snug in her palm. She must have an emotional attachment to that damn knife because she _always_ had it on her.

However, he could respect her proficiency with the blade. Charging past him, Jamie didn't hesitate to dig the weapon into the soft tissue of a walker's head.

It was after dawn when Rick called for Glenn when they were nearing the road, the other man hearing him immediately and running around the car they had brought to find where Rick's voice was coming from. Jamie, presently leaning on Daryl from the steadily gaining fatigue, winced at the appearance of the man's face. Merle had definitely done him one good and he was _not_ going to react well when he saw who was bringing up the rear of their rescue party.

"Rick, thank god," Glenn called when he spotted the entire group making their way back. "Jamie?"

"Yo," she called, mock saluting Glenn with the arm that wasn't wrapped around Daryl. "Oh, Glenn," she mumbled as soon as she got close enough to properly see him, and the sheer beating that Merle had dealt him before she was even conscious. She probably looked like a model compared to him right now.

"Now, we got a problem here, I need you to back up," Rick was trying to explain in a rush, but Glenn had already spotted Merle.

A black woman that Jamie had never seen before drew a rather impressive sword, as well, and followed after Glenn. "What the hell is he doing here?" the Korean demanded as he motioned to the elder Dixon. Daryl carefully extracting Jamie from his person, knowing that he was one of the only ones that would be putting himself between Merle and a weapon, and moved her out of the fray.

Everyone began shouting at once and Jamie quickly stumbled out of the way when the black woman tried to charge Merle with her sword, Rick doing all that he could to get in the way—the action surprised Daryl, but he refused to divert his focus. Hate the man as he may, Merle did get them all out of Woodbury alive. Jamie tried to stay out of all the screaming, hearing accusations of Merle trying to kill people, or Merle saving them.

She found herself feeling less and less hateful toward the older Dixon every time she looked at his face, taking in her _beautiful_ handiwork that was beaten into his flesh.

"Hey, he helped us get out of there," Daryl defended.

"Yea, right after he beat the shit out of you," Rick reminded. Everyone was holding a gun on someone else and Jamie was actually starting to feel left out, holding only her knife to her person and finding that lacking rather dramatically in comparison to the black woman's sword.

"Hey, we both took our licks, man," Merle tried to defend himself.

Lowering his gun for a split second, Daryl turned to look back at his brother. "Jackass," he snapped, before turning his attention to where Maggie and Glenn both had their weapons trained on his brother. While everyone continued to scream at one another, even Daryl and Merle, Jamie slipped behind Daryl to put herself in Merle's path. She, apparently, was not a threat and therefore ignored.

That was a mistake.

One that only Merle seemed to realize as he lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender…slightly too late.

Even as tired as she was, Jamie's balance was perfect as she reared one foot up and back before lifting to kick Merle directly in the face. Merle's gesture of surrender went unheeded by her as she threw him back with the force of her kick, dropping him like a tree to the forest floor. He groaned in pain at the continued abuse to his face, but she ignored him and instead turned to look at the rest of the group that was surrounding on all sides, finally silent.

"There, the threat has been incapacitated for the time being, now _put down your fucking guns_!" she shouted over the entire group, watching Maggie and Glenn hesitate before lowering their firearms. "That goes for swords as well!"

"Bitch," Merle gasped out from the ground, clutching his already abused nose.

"Retribution for my face, asshole," she snapped back, moving to kick him while he was down before Daryl wrapped an arm around her torso and lifted her away, the woman moving with no other choice aside from wiggling around to get him to drop her. "He did that to you?" Daryl asked in surprise as he looked at her before glaring down at his brother.

"Not all of it," Merle defended, remaining on the ground for a moment even as he propped himself up on elbows. "Just a cheek. And the lip."

"You fuckin' hit her?" Daryl snarled as he left Jamie to rush at his brother, ready to put another boot in his face if Rick hadn't stepped into the way in time to stop him. "You sack of shit-" even as he struggled against Rick's hold Daryl wasn't putting up as much of a fight and Jamie knew it. She didn't _want_ this to be happening, especially right now, so she didn't blame Daryl if he just gave up on Merle for the moment.

But what people never seemed to believe, or realize, was that Daryl could be patient. Very patient. And sometimes it was frightening when that patience finally paid off.

"Come on," she urged, tugging on the back of Daryl's shirt to get him to move with her. Sluggishly walking back to the road where the cars were parked, Jamie's legs were starting to feel like spaghetti and her right foot felt swollen from kicking the metal door during her temper tantrum. Thankfully it wasn't bad enough that she was limping, since she knew that Daryl and Rick would be on her ass about what happened. That was a story that she would rather leave for another time, when there wasn't as much tension in the air around the group.

"You get him back for it?" Daryl finally asked after a pause, moving to toss his arm over her shoulder, drawing her in close to his body.

"You can thank me for his new face," she returned with a sneer of satisfaction. "I didn't get to shoot him in the ass, but that'll do for now."

Daryl snorted at her words before he turned her head to kiss her cheek, getting a faint squeal from her when the scruff on his face scratched at her tender cheek. He fought a smile as he kissed her cheek softly, before tipping her head further to kiss her lips next. Drawing her into a one armed hug, the two stood in silence at the side of the road. Rick smiled softly when he saw the two of them before he moved his attention away from them to where Merle was carefully approaching.

Jamie had bloodied his nose for a second time, thankfully not hitting it quite hard enough that it was broken, but he definitely looked like he had been on the losing side of a prize fight. He had seen how Jamie got whenever she was really fighting, like back in Atlanta, and it was like watching the beautiful destruction of a storm. Then there were tender moments that Rick saw whenever she was with Daryl, or whenever she _knew_ she had to be the one to offer comfort. He hadn't quite seen her the same way since the night they had lost the farm, the night he had killed Shane, and she had stood with him. Held him. Comforted him.

Once the tension had died down only slightly did the group reconnect on the roadway, Michonne standing off next to the car as she wasn't really entitled to a say in the group decision. Jamie stood between Daryl and Rick, her hands stuck in her pockets to keep herself warm as the cold of the approaching fall held strong in the morning air. She hadn't exactly been wearing much when they were taken, since it had been a nice sunny day, and she was regretting that decision now. At least the fighting and running had kept her warm.

"It's not gunna work," Rick started first.

So came the time to decide what to do with Merle.

"It's gotta," Daryl snapped back, glaring at the other man briefly, but Jamie gave him a look in return and he relaxed again. It wasn't that Rick was being cruel or unfair toward Merle or Daryl, it was only fact that it would not work. Merle had deep of a history with the people in the group and the newest transgressions only made matters worse. Rick was thinking of everyone when he considered what to do with Daryl's brother.

"It'll stir things up," Rick tried to explain, sounding tired. Not just physically, but emotionally. It was a feeling that they all shared.

Daryl turned to face Rick fully. "Look, the Governor's probably on the way to the prison _right now_. Merle knows how he thinks and we could use the muscle," he pointed out, proving a rather solid point. Not that it would stand with the others in the group.

"I'm not having him at the prison," Maggie said softly, leaving no room for argument on the matter of her opinion. Jamie couldn't blame her, even she didn't really want Merle at the prison, but when it came to Daryl's decisions she knew that she would follow him.

"Do you really want him sleeping in the same cell block as Carol or Beth-"

"Whoa, what?" Jamie interrupted, her head snapped over to look at Glenn. "Carol? Carol's alive? What?" she asked again, turning to Daryl instead, hazel eyes wide with hope. To have lost Carol and Lori and T-Dog—to have lost _so_ many—it had been a nightmare for them all, but if Carol was alive? If she was alive that was one more life they didn't lose, one more person that was still alive and strong within their family.

"Found her hiding in solitary," Daryl explained. "A bit dehydrated, but she'll be okay."

Heaving a sigh of relief as her body sagged for a moment, Rick reached over to grasp her shoulder to offer his support.

"And my brother _ain't_ a rapist," Daryl snapped at Glenn as he turned away from Jamie, his eyes darkening at what the Asian was implying. "He's done some fuck up shit, but he's never raped nobody."

"Well, what about his new buddy?" Glenn snapped right back, meeting Daryl's glare with his own. Glenn really had been getting a back bone over the year that they'd all been together, especially since meeting Maggie, because they knew that he wouldn't have dared stand up to either of the Dixon brothers in the past.

He'd been to pacifist in the past, but now he was thinking only about protecting Maggie.

"They ain't buddies no more, not after last night."

"Probably even before that," Jamie commented offhandedly, but ended up getting them all looking at her for an explanation. Jerking in surprise to have them all suddenly staring at her, she continued in an even tone, "I think that Merle always had a doubt that he could trust the Governor. He came to visit me once and said that the Governor promised to leave Daryl alive if they found him…but he didn't even seem to believe what he was saying. What that man did last night, pitting them against one another, I think that's the straw that broke the camel's back."

"You're actually defending him?" Maggie demanded, looking aghast. "Look at what he did to you!" Pointing out the bruises and cuts on her face, Jamie shook her head.

"I goaded him into that one; I _wanted_ him to hit me." Daryl looked ready to speak up, but Jamie held up a hand to silence him. "It's how he works, and you know it. He has to snap, to lose his control, in order to think. And it worked, because he came back. And then I beat the shit out of him. But Merle _can_ be reasoned with, he can be brought to realize good and bad…it just takes some interesting methods."

Rick sighed and scrubbed at his face with one hand, the other resting on his hip just above his gun holster. "There's no way that Merle's gunna live there without putting everyone at each other's throats." This conversation alone was testament enough that Rick was right.

"So you're gunna cut Merle lose and bring the last samurai home with us?" Daryl demanded, motioning over to where Michonne was still leaning against the car, waiting for whatever decision they came to.

"She's not coming back-"

"She's not in a state to be on her own," Maggie interrupted Rick, knowing that the man didn't like her for whatever reason, but she was wounded and had risked a lot to save them.

"She did bring you guys to us," Glenn supported in a hesitant tone.

"You guys, perhaps," Jamie scoffed under her breath, folding her arms and seeming to pout like a petulant child.

Rick heard her, however, and nodded his head once in agreement. "And then she ditched us, without even helping to find where Jamie was. If she knew that town so well then finding Jamie shouldn't have been a problem."

"At least let my dad stitch her up," Maggie conceded.

"She's too unpredictable," Rick denied, looking over to the woman that they were speaking about. Jamie hadn't really had to chance to meet Michonne, and so she didn't have much of an opinion on her, but it took quite a bit for Rick to deny her right off the bat. All of the blank patches of information were starting to get annoying for Jamie, but she felt weird interrupting them every time someone said something that went over her head.

"That's right, we don't know who she is," Daryl supported. "But Merle, Merle's blood." Jamie thought back to what she had said to Merle when she had attacked him, accusing him of turning his back on the only family that he had left. If Rick refused Merle…Daryl would not stay. He'd go with his brother.

And she'd go with her husband.

"No, Merle is _your_ blood. My blood, my family, is standing right here and waiting for us back at the prison," Glenn hissed at Daryl, sounding far too angry. But he was the one that had been wronged the most by Merle, his face reminded them all of that time and time again.

Rick continued for Glenn, "And you're part of that family. But he's not."

Jamie took a step back from the small gathering, wiping at her face tiredly. She didn't know. She really didn't. It was _so hard_ to suddenly accept Merle after hating him for so long; she had been waiting for Merle to just leave, to disappear back when the world was normal. But at the same time she didn't want him to because that would hurt Daryl. When Daryl had become accustomed to Merle being gone, most likely being dead, she had been relieved. Now here they were again, back at the beginning.

And she just didn't know what to do with herself, or with Merle.

"He's not," Rick said again, quietly, hoping to get Daryl to understand.

The other man looked at the ground for a moment before glancing over to Jamie, who was messaging at her sore nose. She most likely had a headache after getting hit so many times. "Fine," Daryl finally relented. "We'll fend for ourselves."

Unsurprised at the words, Jamie just heaved a sigh and let her hands drop down to her sides. Glenn seemed panicked at Daryl's words, not having intended to drive Daryl off in the process of getting rid of Merle. "No, no, no, that's not what I meant-"

"No him, no me," Daryl firmed out, solid on his decision.

"Daryl, you don't have to do that," Maggie tried.

"It was always Merle and I before this," Daryl continued a moment later, glancing over to meet Jamie's hazel eyes. "Just us." Her face scrunched a moment in confusion, wondering on his words.

"What do you want us to tell Carol?" Glenn asked, hoping that reminding Daryl of his friend would get him to see sense, but the Dixon already had that thought out. Already knew what he was going to do. And there were probably quite a few people that were going to hate him for it.

One in particular.

"She'll still have Jamie."

The blonde behind him locked up like a statue at the words, finally understanding what he had meant. _Just us_. He wasn't intending for her to be joining either him or Merle—he wanted to leave her behind. "No!" she shouted, throwing herself forward to roughly shove at Daryl's side, wanting to expel her anger at his words. Having expected the reaction, Daryl barely swayed. "You're not allowed to do that!"

"You'll be safer with the group," Daryl pressed, taking a hold on her hands when she went to hit him again.

Rick looked between the two before he silently motioned for Maggie and Glenn to step away. They would need a chance to be alone, to talk alone. He could only hope that Jamie was able to convince Daryl to stay, to keep their family together. But the look in their eyes, in both Daryl's and Jamie's, he knew that they both were aware the decision was made. Jamie's eyes were anguished, knowing that no matter how much she hurt him or screamed at him, Daryl wasn't going to let her join him.

Pulling the struggling woman forward in an embrace, Jamie's fists beat at his stomach and her teeth bit his shirt, trying to keep herself angry. But her eyes were starting to burn with tears and she could feel her throat tightening with the urge to sob, to cry. To beg.

"I couldn't ask you to live with him, Jamie. The things he's said to you, done to you…" Letting the sentence hang, Daryl only pulled her closer as he could feel her beginning to shake. "It ain't goodbye," he tried again. "I swear, no matter what happens this is not goodbye. Because you couldn't _force_ me to stay away."

"Then why are you leaving?" she finally choked out, her voice sounding rough and strained as she leaned into his chest, muffling her words against his shirt. He smelled like the forest—she always loved that about him, especially when he went on early morning hunts, and came back smelling like morning dew and moist earth. "I only got a year with you-"

Her words cut off and Daryl knew that she was crying, trying not to but unable to stop.

Jamie's arms finally wrapped around him, holding him in a death grip as she masked her sobs in his chest, muffling the sound and dampening his shirt with her tears. It felt like a knife to her chest, knowing that there was nothing she could say to change his mind. "You've gotta promise me you'll stay with Rick," Daryl continued, whispering the words into the soft strands of her hair. "Take care of him, of everyone."

Urging her to look up, even as she fought against him, Daryl revealed her reddened, tear-stained face and wiped at her cheeks with calloused thumbs. "Take care of little Ass-Kicker, yea?" The attempt to make her laugh only made her sob, shaking her head as she closed her eyes. It hurt to look at him, knowing that any moment she was looking at him could be the last time she ever saw him.

Short paces up the road, Rick felt sick at the sounds of Jamie's sobs.

Daryl pulled back enough to press a kiss against Jamie's forehead, blinking against the threat of his own tears, before ducking down to tenderly claim her lips one last time. Extracting Jamie's hands from the grip on his shirt, even as she fought to keep him close to her, Daryl couldn't bring himself to look at her as he pulled away and moved to leave.

He had to go now, before he changed his mind.

As soon as he had left her Jamie's knees wobbled and buckled, dropping her to the ground painfully, but she didn't feel it. She couldn't feel anything. The world was silent and numb around her, leaving her to stare at the forest ahead of her, blurred and unclear.

He was gone.


	14. The Darkness Before Sleep

Jamie could feel the moist dirt through her pants, but she wasn't sure whether the ground was warm or cold. She supposed that it would be cold, since it was growing later in the season and the ground was usually cold around that time. But the trees were still green and the days were pretty warm. Blinking blearily, she looked up toward the sky, seeing that it was clear. It was going to be a nice day, apparently.

Rough hands gently slid beneath her arms and pulled her up, taking the woman's limp weight as she continued to dazedly stare off. They were familiar, those hands, but they weren't _his_.

Rick carefully took Jamie's weight with one arm around her waist, the other hand keeping hold of her arm as he supported her. She didn't even react to him being there, to his touch. She just continued to stare ahead of her, where Daryl had once been standing. He was gone now, already off with Merle. Rick had faintly heard the elder Dixon comment on Jamie before Daryl punched him in the face and kept walking. He supposed that should give him some hope that Daryl would come back, but he was worried.

"Jamie?" he called to her softly, trying to get her to look at him. She blinked slowly, causing more tears to fall.

"Is he really gone?" she rasped out, not even looking at him.

Rick bowed his head for a moment, wishing that he could tell her that Daryl was just over by the car. That he'd decided to stay instead of going with Merle. But as much as he wanted to tell her this…

"I'm sorry, Jay," he whispered to the distraught woman, feeling her body tremble in his hold as she fought to stop herself from completely breaking down again.

They carefully put her in the passenger seat of the car, the woman appearing completely blank and numb as she stared out the window. Rick was fairly certain that she wasn't even aware that there were silent tears dripping down her cheeks. Her eyes were nothing but pain, glistening with what tears that had not yet fallen. The drive back was silent aside from the sounds of the engine. Even when they had to stop to remove a truck from the middle of the road, blocking their path, Jamie didn't move from her seat.

Rick noticed when they were nearing the prison that she was twisting the ring on her finger, the one that Daryl had found on the highway. She didn't register that she was doing it, subconsciously twisting the metal around her finger again and again. Her hand trembled against the movements, but she never stopped. Not until the gates of the prison came into view, drawing her bland eyes up to the metal fences that kept their group safe.

_Had_ kept them safe.

It was terrifying to think that this new man, the Governor, could arrive at any moment and take it all away from them. Jamie wanted to say that she'd fight for her life to save the people that had become her family, but the most important part of that family was gone now. She didn't know if she would really fight when the time came; if she would be able to kill to protect them.

Was she like Merle, when she killed that prisoner? Was she like Merle when she shot or hurt someone?

Belatedly, Jamie realized that Rick had gotten out of the car and Maggie had taken over in the driver's seat, driving up the winding path that led from the front gates to the building they had claimed as their new home.

They were never going to catch a break, huh?

With the car leaving them behind, Rick took a moment to embrace Carl as soon as he had come to greet him. He never liked to leave the boy behind, where he would never know if he was safe while he was away, but this time he had no other choice. Carl hugged him back just as tightly, making Rick smile as he pulled away to look him over. Thankfully, there was nothing different about his son, so things must have been calm while they were gone.

"Where's Hershel?" Rick asked calmly, rising back to his full height as the car grew distant up the pathway. Carol, however, followed it for a moment as she looked through the windows carefully. Maggie, Glenn and Jamie were all inside with the black woman that had led them to the town, but Daryl was missing, taking a lingering moment to look Jamie over, hunched in the passenger seat and turned away from her, she could only assume the worst.

"Where's Daryl?" she asked Rick, interrupting him and Carl.

Quickly stepping up to Carol's side, Rick placed an assuring hand on her shoulder. He had been so worried about Jamie's reaction that he hadn't even thought about Carol. "It's alright—he's alive." Carol relaxed as the assurance but looked back out to the road that they had come in on, still frowning. "We ran into his brother," Rick continued cautiously. He knew that Jamie held an insatiable hate for Merle, but he didn't know how Carol would react. She was one of the few that knew Merle from the original group out of Atlanta, so she would know him perfectly.

Swallowing thickly as he looked to the ground, Rick felt the words sour on his tongue.

"They went off and…Daryl told Jamie to stay with us, so she'd be safer."

Carol was silent for a moment, taking in the information as her eyes flicked up toward where they could no longer see the car, knowing that it was parked out of sight by now. "They left?" she asked carefully. "Daryl _left_?" her words trembled as she repeated herself, fidgeting on the spot as she continued to look back at the road before turning to the prison, unable to comprehend the actions of the man. "Is he coming back? He…he _has_ to come back!"

Together, the three of them made for the path leading up to the main building. To their cellblock.

Rising out of the car on shaking legs, Jamie took in the prison, standing tall above her head, imposingly solid. It seemed different now, seen with new eyes as she took in ever crack in the brick, the faded paint that chipped off like burned skin. Taking a few stumbling steps, Glenn was suddenly there with a steadying hand on her back, giving her a moment of support as Maggie came over as well.

The others must have realized they were back somehow and came flooding out the gated doors, Beth leading the pack as she rushed to greet her sister. Hershel hobbled behind a bit slower, but there was a look of contentment on his face. Jamie moved away silently, not even looking at the others as she walked over to the doors. Those were the doors she had carried Lori's body out of, cold in her arms but still weighing that of a human body.

Carol rushed away from Rick and Carl as soon as she had seen Jamie's staggering form, a bloody strip of cloth wrapped around her forearm and her entire body looking absolutely _done_. She had never seen the woman's shoulders so low, her arms so limp and her body so unable to support itself. Again and again, she had told her that everything she did was for Daryl; to keep him safe, to keep him with her. Her meaning of life, her reason to stay alive, was gone.

Winding an arm around Jamie's shoulders, she felt her heart constrict painfully at the tears that were shining in her reddened eyes, her nose running and her lips trembling. Wrapping her in a solid embrace, Carol pulled her into her body, hoping to offer any possible comfort that she could give the other woman. "I'm so sorry, sweetie," she whispered against Jamie's hair, matted and unkempt from her time in the other town.

Jamie choked a sob as she was leaning her head down on Carol's shoulder, her taller frame leaving her to bend her neck awkwardly, but not actually feeling it. She didn't want to cry anymore, she didn't want to feel the burn as tears left her eyes. It made her head hurt, it made her entire body shake in ways that were against her control. She hated it, she hated crying, and she hated most of all that she was crying because of _him_.

How _dare_ he just _leave_? How dare he leave her _now_ , of all times, when he knew that there was danger lingering just beyond the forest?

And with _Merle_.

Feeling Carol pull her against her body, wrapped in her arms like her mother had once done when she was a child, only made Jamie cry harder. She had never really thought on the comfort of a mother, since she always had Daryl as a secure wall around her, keeping her supported and safe. Now that the wall was gone, the terrors could finally reach her.

Choking heavily on her sobs, tears and saliva covering Carol's shirt as Jamie broke apart—no person within hearing range didn't feel sick at the sound. Carol rubbed a hand up and down Jamie's back gently, offering soft shushing and cooing sounds to do all she could to calm the woman down. Jamie actually sounding like she was choking, struggling to breathe from the harsh contractions in her chest that caused her sobs, so violent and painful. Carefully helping Jamie to sit down on a nearby picnic table that was in the outside court, the older woman continued to sooth and rock her as Rick and Hershel spoke softly a couple of yards away.

Rick didn't waste time in telling Hershel what had happened, what he had seen when going to retrieve Daryl. About the fight to the death, Jamie as leverage, and finally Daryl's decision to leave them—leave his wife—to go out with his brother. He could understand wanting to keep close to the only blood relation he has left, but Rick could not grasp Daryl's willingness to leave Jamie behind. He knew that she could keep herself alive out there just fine, had done so long before even meeting Rick. But Daryl had wanted her to stay back to stay _safe_ and Rick couldn't guarantee that she _was_ safe at the prison.

Stepping up behind her, catching Carol's watering eyes, Rick gave her a faint nod to show his gratitude. If there was anyone who could do it, Carol would be able to help Jamie. Offering a trembling smile in return, she continued to stroke along Jamie's back in the hopes to quell her shakes—she knew that such hard sobs would start to hurt after a while. Rick placed a gentle hand on Jamie's head, feeling her shaking even from that simple touch, before he leaned forward to press a kiss against the top of her head, reminding her that he was there as well.

As much as she would feel it, she wasn't alone. He just wanted to remind her of that.

Carol remained outside with Jamie for what felt like hours, holding the woman as she cried. However, it proved to pay off when she began to calm as the day grew late and the air gained a cooler feel to it. Carol let Jamie remain leaning heavily against her, sniffling and coughing in some attempt to regain herself. No one dared disturb them, knowing that Jamie could very well lash out while in such a vulnerable state. They put faith in Carol's bond with her that she would be well taken care of.

"Feel a bit better?" Carol asked in a hushed tone once Jamie had pulled away from her, instead sitting on her own as she leaned her elbows heavily on her knees, taking in deep, trembling breaths. She looked so small, hunched over as she was.

"N-no," Jamie hiccupped, glaring down at the pavement. She definitely looked a sight, her eyes and cheeks blotched red, slightly puffy from crying. On top of that her cheek was turning all kinds of colours with a swell of its own, and her lip had started bleeding again when her crying ripped open the scab there.

"How about we get you inside," Carol proposed, tilting Jamie's chin up to get a look at her again. Her nose was dripping, lips were bloody and eyes still shining with lingering tears, "And get you cleaned up. Might help you to feel a bit more like yourself."

Knowing that she couldn't stop Carol's persistence—and she was a very patient woman—Jamie let the woman help her up and guide her back inside. Using a bandana that she always kept in her back pocket, Carol helped as best she could to wipe Jamie's face clean, acting every bit a mother, explaining to her quickly and calmly about the new people that were inside. The blonde didn't react to Carol's explanation, but she knew that she understood what she was telling her.

The second they stepped into the anteroom, Jamie's shoulders had stiffened up again and, even though it was still apparent she had been crying, she marched past the group with more command in her body than she had since Daryl had left. If anything, it just made her look downright pissed off.

The four new-comers watched her and Carol pass by with peculiar looks on their faces, not having realized that there was another person in the group. Her condition didn't escape their notice, but no one made a sound as Carl let her and Carol inside their cellblock before locking them inside once more.

Beth was first to greet Jamie, offering her a hug even as she cradled the baby in one arm, the other around Jamie's stiff shoulders. "He'll come back," she whispered into the taller woman's ear. "He has to."

Soon she was sitting on the stairs with Hershel and Beth, holding a cool, damp cloth to her face. It helped with the splitting headache that she had been left with from her crying, while also taking some of the redness and swelling from around her eyes. Beth was holding the baby as she sat beside Jamie, smiling whenever she noticed Jamie's fonder looks at the small infant. She refused to hold her, however, as she was worried that her arms wouldn't be able to support the child.

"You would never drop her," Beth soothed. "You're too careful to do that."

Shaking her head, Jamie just leaned her face back in her damp cloth and leaned against the railing beside her, listening to Hershel and Rick speak about the newest problem. They had the Governor's threats lurking in the back of their minds, as well as the appearance of a group of people that they didn't know, and didn't know if they could trust.

Sighing with the faintest of sounds, Jamie moved to lie back on the steps, the metal cold beneath her helping to sooth some of the aches in her body, even as they presented new ones. After reverting to a sobbing mass of an adult and relieving her pent up agony, all other aches had slowly returned. Her face hurt the most, but the cold cloth helped with that as best as it could.

A short time later, against her will, Jamie was left in the cellblock with the baby as the others went to go and speak with the four people that Carl had found in the tombs.

She gave a sad smile as the baby scrunched her face up slightly in her sleep, making the softest grumbling sound as she squirmed atop Jamie's legs before falling still once more. Tickling at the tiny girl's chubby cheeks, she almost felt a bit more at peace before she focused on her own hands, taking in the raw skin, split and scabbed, from the beating that she had given to Merle. "He adored you," she whispered down to the baby, remembering when Daryl had first taken her in his arms and cradled her, feeding her a bottle of baby formula.

Kicking her small feet towards Jamie's stomach, the baby's face scrunched up again before she gave a faint cry. Blinking in surprise and worry that she had done something the make her cry, Jamie drew back slightly and looked toward the doors. Beth handled the baby best, knowing how to take care of the small thing and stop her from crying.

She couldn't hear the rest of the group talking and figured that only meant that Rick was trying to come to a decision. The baby steadily got louder as she squirmed on Jamie's legs, small, fisted hands coming up to her face as her cheeks began to redden. Quickly and carefully lifting her into her arms, Jamie rose from the stairs to begin gently rocking the baby, making soft hushing sounds in hopes of quieting her. She didn't know what she wanted, why she was crying. She wasn't a mother, she had no clue what she'd done.

Wincing at the thought of interrupting them, Jamie made her way for the doors to retrieve Beth before the 'Lil' Ass-Kicker' got _really_ loud. Beth had already turned and started towards her when she reached the doors, her arms out to accept the baby into them. She was the perfect mother, and knew exactly what to do when the baby cried.

However, even as Beth rocked and gently swayed her, the baby continued to cry steadily louder.

"Why're you here?"

Looking up when Rick spoke, Jamie frowned as he marched over toward her and Beth, without actually looking at either of them. At first, she thought maybe he was talking to her, wanting to know why she had come and interrupted them with the crying infant—but he was looking up, toward the railings where the guards would have stood to watch over the prisoners.

"What do you…what do you want from me?" he asked, staring up. Jamie followed his line of sight, but saw nothing. Glancing at the others, they wore similar expressions of confusion and worry of their faces. Rick didn't…he didn't _sound_ right. He sounded like he was slurring his words, like there was something wrong with his perceptions.

"Dad?" Carl called hesitantly, turning to face his father.

"Why are you—no…" Rick struggled on what he was trying to say, whatever he was seeing. Looking up, before turning down to the floor, backing away after approaching. Jamie looked up again, but there was nothing there. Nothing in the window, nothing on the catwalk.

"Rick?" she started carefully, her voice still rough from her earlier episode, making her voice thick and scratched. Reaching for him slowly, Jamie moved away from Beth and the baby toward the clearly struggling father. "Rick-"

"I can't help you!" he shouted suddenly, turning away from Jamie sharply. "Get out!" he shouted, facing the newcomers. Jamie was pretty sure, however, that he wasn't actually talking to them. Jumping forward, she tried to catch his arm but Rick was moving, pacing erratically. He couldn't seem to stand in one place. Looking up at the catwalk again, he repeated himself, his voice rising higher, "Get out!"

Finally catching his arm, Jamie tried to get him to look at her, but he was focused solely on the area in front of the barred window. "Rick, there is nothing there," she tried to urge, grabbing at his shoulders to force him to look at her. Behind them, Tyreece seemed unsettled at the man's reaction and had lifting his hands to seem defenseless. But it wasn't him, Jamie knew that, even though he seemed to think that it was their presence that had set Rick off.

Rick pulled himself from Jamie's hold, pacing sharply again as he wiped at his face, rubbing sweat on his sleeve. His breathing was becoming erratic, worrying the surrounding group that knew him.

Glancing over to Hershel, desperate for the man to offer her some kind of advice, he seemed just as started as she was.

Catching a hold of him again, this time making sure that he wouldn't pull from her hold, Jamie forced him to face her. He bowed his head, closed his eyes, trying to hide something from behind seen. He was trying not to see something, something that only he could see. "Rick, what is it? What do you see?" she tried to ask calmly, but her voice shook with her uncertainty.

"No," he mumbled, shaking his head sharply. "No, no, no, no." Rick grabbed at Jamie's wrists, her hands fisted in his shirt, as he continued to chant and mumble under his breath. "She's got to leave, she's already gone."

"Rick," she whispered, leaning to try and get into his line of sight when he was looking at the floor between them. She gasped suddenly when the hands around her wrists tightened painfully, grinding her bones together and causing her to jerk in pain, releasing his shirt. "Rick!"

"You don't belong here!" he shouted, shaking Jamie as he yelled. Her eyes widened, her face showing her startled fear at Ricks violent reaction. " _Get out_!" With a harsh pressure as he released her wrists, Jamie was pushed back and away from his person. The action surprised her stiff body enough that she fumbled backward, too fast to be caught, and hit the cement ground hard. A scream tore from her lips, though, when her arm, flung out to try and catch her balance, slammed on the edge of the table beside where she and Rick were standing. Directly on the slice that Merle had caused.

The wound reopened and throbbed in agony, pulsing in pain as Jamie hissed through her teeth, wanting to scream again but pushing the urge down. Maggie and Carol both rushed over to her, trying to help her up, but she had curled in on herself, lying on her side, with her arm tight to her middle.

"Get out! Get out!" Rick was shouting, screaming, his gun now drawn as he faced the newcomers once more. Glenn, when he couldn't stop Rick, ushered them out to the door that led to the courtyard, truly worried for what might be wrong with Rick and that he might actually _shoot_ one of them.

"There's no one there!" Jamie screamed at Rick from her place on the ground, blood staining her fingers as she clutched her blazing arm. She felt like the wound was fresh again, only worse. To have slammed it against the table edge made it feel like someone had taken another knife and fished around inside the open wound. " _There is no one there_!"

With the others gone, Rick fell oddly silent. He tried to look back at the catwalk again, but the movement was halting, like a flinch. Glancing down at Jamie on the ground, Rick seemed to be seeing her against the first time, as though she hadn't truly been there. Looking as though he wanted to speak, Rick reached for her with one hand and a stuttering step, but stopped himself. Crowded between Maggie and Carol, she looked small and broken on the floor.

He had made her start crying again.

"Jay..." he mumbled, using the name that she had first given him when they met. "Jay, I-"

Jamie actually shuffled backward, her feet pushing on the cold ground to carry her in the opposite direction. When she was far enough back, away from Maggie and Carol, she rose quickly and made for the cellblock without looking back, her arm still bleeding. Beth and Carl followed after her, leaving only the adults standing in the anteroom of the block they slept in.

"Jamie," Beth called after the blonde woman as she stumbled her way up the stairs, rushing for the mattresses that she and Daryl had slept on at the top. There was also a table there now, a place where Beth was able to take care of the baby. Cradling her arm to her chest, Jamie was trying to regulate her breathing as the pain and returned tears made her breath quick and shallow.

Beth handed the baby over to Carl, who had no qualms against holding the precious child tenderly. Beth sat down on the edge of Jamie and Daryl's bed, reaching out to place a hand on the woman's arm. "You should let daddy take a look at your arm," she starting, deciding against mention Daryl or Rick. It was apparent that losing Daryl had made Jamie more vulnerable to everything, especially if something was coming from Rick, the first person—aside from Daryl—that she had met in their group.

Hershel was able to persuade Beth to leave Jamie on her own, knowing that the upset woman had been pushed past her limit already. She just wanted to be left by herself for a while. As quiet and small as she made herself, it would have been easy to forget that she was there if it wasn't for the people of the group constantly coming to check on her. Whenever Beth had to check on the baby she would stop by the make sure that Jamie was still there, her eyes closed, before moving on. Carol did the same, while Hershel would check on her from the stairs.

Unable to fall asleep, Jamie just laid there in the darkness of night as she stared forward at the shadows created from the moonlight through the windows. She was lying on the half of their bed that Daryl had occupied while he was there, the faint smell of him still lingering in the folded blanket that he had used as a pillow, soft and worn on her cheek. She was just torturing herself at the point, leaving her longing for the real thing.

The blanket held that same smell that she had noticed that morning, a blend of earthy, moist dirt and leaves; the smell of the forest.

It was at least a couple of hours after Rick had broken down in the anteroom that Jamie felt the mattress dip behind her before a heavy hand came down on her upper arm, warm against her skin. She _knew_ that it was Rick, even though he was silent and she couldn't see him. It was the action itself that made her realize that it couldn't be anyone else—the gesture wasn't there for only comfort, as everyone else's were, but instead for apology as well.

Shifting her body, Jamie turned onto her back enough to grasp Rick's shirtsleeve and tug, bringing him to lie down on the mattress with her. It was easy to forget in her own grief that Rick had lost Daryl as well, a friend and a brother, choosing to leave him behind. Fully rolling onto her side, facing Rick, she reached forward to take his hand with her good arm and held it loosely as she stared at his shadowed face sadly.

Rick's other hand lifted to rest on her unmarred cheek, warm and calloused as he caressed his thumb along the skin that had once been moist with tears. Staring at her darkened form, Rick couldn't help but to picture her on the floor, tears once more falling from her eyes. Daryl had made him promise before he left that he would take care of her, promised that she'd be safe while he was gone. And he had hurt her. Made her scream. Made her cry.

With someone there with her once more, Jamie found it becoming harder to stay awake with every second that ticked by. No matter how tired she was, or how close she was to sleep, though, she knew that it wasn't Daryl that was lying there with her. Still, as she was moments from sleep the woman couldn't help but to enclose on the warmth, wrapping her arms around Rick and drawing herself in on him.

And he took her in, pulled her close and held her in Daryl's place. He would make sure that he didn't break that promise again. He wouldn't be like Merle, like Daryl's real brother. Even if she had lost Daryl, Rick refused to have her lose him as well. When they couldn't go to their significant others, they would always be able to reach for each other.

Feeling Jamie's body relax as she finally fell asleep, just as it had been the first night in the prison as she cried in his lap, Rick stayed with her and gently carded his fingers through her hair to draw out the knots that had built up in it.

He'd never admit it aloud, but he was also there, holding her so tightly, for selfish reasons.

Lori. He had seen his dead wife, standing above the group just as he decided that the four new comers could stay with them. And she had looked down at him, so dark even though she wore a dress of pure white. He had forgotten how beautiful his wife was, blinded by his mistrust after she had given herself to Shane.

To have Jamie there was a reminder that he wasn't going crazy, that he was in the real world. He had let himself step back into the room in the tombs, when he had heard the phone ringing and the voices of those long dead speaking back to him. Causing Jamie pain should have woken him up, should have brought him back. He swore to himself that he would never do that again—just push Jamie away when she was doing all she could to help him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered into her hair, knowing that she would hate to hear those words if she was awake. Sometimes, words were truly empty in comparison to the weight of a person's actions. For him to lie there with her, hold her and do all he could to convey his guilt for his actions, she would respect that much more.

That was how Carol and Beth found them later that night, bordering on sunrise. Curled together on the mattress at the top of the stairs, both still fully dressed in their clothes from that day, they appeared to have finally relaxed. Both going through their share of pain, they had been too tense, too pained, since returning to the prison.

They deserved a reprieve.

Kneeling down silently next to Jamie, Carol carefully manoeuvred the blanket that Jamie was partially laying on to drape over the two of them. So deep into their exhaustion, neither noticed the change and continued to slumber silently.


	15. A Call to War

Jamie woke groggily when she felt Rick leave in the morning, but still couldn't pull herself into full consciousness. Her mind still wanted to sleep, deep and peaceful. Away from the burdens of reality and life. Pulling the blanket that Daryl slept on closer to her cheek, she pushed away the consciousness of the world. But hearing the movement of the group, down on the lower level, as time ticked by was something hard to resist, since Jamie hated being left out of group discussions. She _knew_ that they would be trying to think up what to do about the Governor.

Rolling on her back with a faint groan, all of the previous day's aches returning with a vengeance, the blonde took only a moment more to collect herself before hefting into a sitting position. From her view point at the top of the stairs, it was easy to see more and more and more of the family were gathering in the anteroom outside of the cellblock.

She was pretty sure that when she went down there Rick would not be among them.

But she knew for a fact that Daryl wasn't going to be there, either.

Making her way down the stairs a bit more slowly than usual, Jamie scrubbed at her face. She felt grimy and unclean, like it had been decades since she'd had a bath or shower. Oh, she missed her bath. Her large tub and all of those soaps that Daryl used to tease her about endlessly, calling her vain. She knew, oh she _knew_ , that he _loved_ the soaps. He'd always pull her in after a bath and smell her hair, caress her skin that was as soft as satin.

Stopping half way down the stairs, Jamie just leaned against the railing and let out a nearly inaudible sigh. Everything was wrong: Daryl not being there was _wrong_ , Daryl leaving her voluntarily was _wrong_ , Rick having a psychotic episode was _wrong_ , the hollow feeling in her chest was _wrong_.

And she didn't know how to fix it.

Looking up when Maggie re-entered the cellblock, Jamie frowned at her distraught appearance. The brunette bowed her head, however, to avoid having Jamie look at her as she continued past her, back up the stairs to the room that she and Glenn shared. Turning to watch her over her shoulder, Jamie raised a single eyebrow as she looked over to the doors she had come through, spotting Glenn with a dejected look on his face.

She hadn't been there when the Governor had been able to extract the information from Maggie and Glenn, so she didn't know what had happened. It was clearly something that those two needed to sort out on their own, however.

"We'll stay put, defend this place. We're gunna make a stand," Glenn was saying as Jamie approached, kneeling before a crude drawing of the prison layout on the floor, made up of white chalk. Stopping beside Hershel, she turned her hazel eyes to the older man. There was something weighing on him, and it wasn't old age. Whatever he was worrying about made him appear even older, more stressed than he had been for a while.

The Governor was playing with all of their minds and he wasn't even there.

"Carl and I will go to the tombs—we need to figure out where the breach is."

"You got it," carl agreed, nodding along. The movement caused the light to catch on the decoration of the Sherriff's hat that he was wearing, causing Jamie to give an almost fond smile, barely visible. She remembered Rick wearing that hat, and his uniform, when they had first left Morgan and Duane back in Rick's town.

So much had changed since then, it was hard to imagine things had been different to things today.

"I can help," Michonne offered as she stepped toward them.

"No," Glenn denied. "In case anything happens, I need you up here." Looking over his shoulder, the Korean spotted Jamie over his shoulder. But staring at her, he seemed to realize something and looked away a moment later, taking in all of the people in the room. "Who's on watch?" he asked suddenly, sounding angered that no one was out keeping an eye on the area.

The tone that he used, angered at the _group_ , made Jamie glare at the back of his head.

"I'll go," she offered, her voice still somewhat raw and only making her sound angrier than she actually was. Looking back at her again, Glenn rose up to his full height in front of her. He was basically the same height as Jamie, but the way that she stood made her appear a lot bigger than she was. It was the same way she had acting with Merle, even though Glenn wasn't aware of that fact. "Careful, Glenn. The fastest way to lose is to let them get inside your head first." The comment was almost off-hand, nonchalant, as she stepped past him. "Wouldn't want you turning into one of his little soldiers."

The occupants of the room, aside from Michonne, looked away or flinched at Jamie's accusation. However, she wasn't wrong. Since he had returned with Rick everyone saw how he was acting differently, not as the kind Glenn that they knew him to be. They weren't judging him for it, since it was clear that he and Maggie had been through hell, but Jamie made a fair point. For the Governor to do this to Glenn, to change him as he was, he had already won round one.

Stepping out into the late morning sunlight was a breath of fresh air for Jamie, a cool breeze chasing away the worst of the Georgia heat and leaving her to feel only the softness of the sun's warmth. Not wanting to be locked away in one of the guard towers just yet, Jamie made her way up to the fenced catwalk that overlooked the courtyard. The smell of dead corpses had long since disappeared from the courtyard, even though the space still looked desolate and abandoned.

Pulling her hair from her pony-tail and shaking the locks out from the stiff position it had been left in. She needed to wash it, as the grime had made it oily and gross to touch. Once she was sure that the position of her hair wasn't going to give her a headache anymore, the woman pulled it back into the tie at the base of her skull.

She'd have to have Carol cut it again sometime soon.

Miles away, distant from the farm and the group that he had come to call family, Daryl was pointing his loaded crossbow at Merle. His older brother was shoulder deep in a red van, a woman with a crying baby in the front seat and two men looking between Daryl and Merle with a mixture of uncertainty and gratitude. Or at least they were looking to Daryl with some gratitude.

Merle slowly stepped back from the car, stopping in his search for something that they could eat, to face Daryl's crossbow head on. Daryl glared back at his older brother with unmasked rage. Never would he have been able to live with himself if they stole from them, a group that had a baby to feed. Just like his family back at the prison. He briefly wondered if they had named the baby yet.

Knowing that his brother wasn't bullshitting him, just by the hard look in his eyes, Merle stepped away from the van and closed the door for them as well. Without another moment of hesitation, the red vehicle reversed off of the bridge before they turned to leave. As soon as they were no longer behind Merle he pushed the weapon out of his face, Daryl hesitating to remove the threat from his brother before he finally relented and turned to leave.

Watching his brother as Daryl headed over to his bag, which he had dropped the moment he arrived on the bridge, Merle followed after him at a slower pace. But there were still walkers in the area and they couldn't stick around much longer. Daryl retrieved his arrows from the heads of walkers as he passed them, ignoring his brother completely on his way out of the area.

By the time he had reached the forest, Merle had caught up with him.

"What the shit you doin', pointin' that thing at me?" Merle demanded of his brother as he followed after him, not nearly as graceful as Daryl was in the woods and thus stumbling around the uneven ground. it just served to remind Daryl of times when he and Jamie had hunted, the woman having learned how to remain silent and stealthy through the trees.

"They were scared, man," Daryl explained simply and shortly, not even sparing his elder brother a glance.

"They were rude, is what they were," Merle countered, trying to walk faster to keep up with Daryl. It could never be said that Daryl wasn't in fine physical condition due to his rough life, both before and after the end of the world. "Rude and they owed us a token of gratitude."

Daryl grumbling in annoyance over Merle's actions, his words. "They didn't owe us nothin'."

"You helping people out of the goodness of your heart? Even though you might die doin' it? Is that something Sheriff Rick taught you? Or was that what little Jay-Jay's been doin'?" Merle's taunt made Daryl tense up in absolute rage, but he forced himself not to whirl around and punch his brother _again_. He was tired of him insulting his wife, and his friend. Jamie and Rick had done him nothing but good since they arrived in his life—at very different times.

"There was a baby!"

Merle let out a loud scoff at his brother's loud, angered excuse. "Oh, otherwise you would have just left them to the biters, then?" Finally, Daryl turned around to face Merle, finally stopping in his fast, angered pace. Merle jerked to a stop as well, not expecting for Daryl to quit his march through the forest. He met his glare head on, however, and sneered at the raged expression that he was faced with.

"Man, I went back for ya. _You weren't there_. I didn't cut off your hand, neither. You did that- _way_ before they locked you up on that roof. You asked for it." Motioning to his brother with the arrow that was in his hand, Daryl tried to ignore the thought of finding Jamie as well, catching up with her in Atlanta at the same time that he went for his brother. He lost Merle but, in some ways, he gained something _more_. Merle may have been blood but he wasn't good company in _any_ way.

"You know—you know what's funny to me? You and Sheriff Rick are like this now, right?" Holding up his hand, Merle wound his fingers together to show how close his brother and enemy had gotten over time. "I bet you a penny and a fiddle of gold that you never told him that we were planning on robbing that camp _blind_."

The younger Dixon stilled, almost like a flinch, before he shook his head. "That didn't happen."

"Yea, it didn't. 'Cause I wasn't there to help you!"

Daryl's jaw locked up and his nostrils flared as he breathed out heavily, trying to repress the urge to punch his brother. "What like when we were kids, huh? Who left who then?"

Merle sneered back at Daryl before listing his arm, holding up the stump of his wrist. "What? Huh? Is that why I lost my hand?" Daryl snorted at Merle's words, looking away for a moment in disbelief. Merle knew very well why he lost his hand, he just seemed to believe that blaming everyone else was going to make things easier somehow.

"You lost your hand 'cause you're a simple minded piece of shit."

Daryl turned to leave his brother, taking no more than a step before Merle had grabbed the back of his shirt to stop him. "Yea? You don't know-!" One sharp tug and the old, beaten shirt gave to Merle's grip, tearing along the back as Daryl's pack slipped from his shoulder, forced to the ground when his balance was thrown.

Merle's accusation was cut off as he looked down at Daryl, hunched on the ground. The tear in his shirt had revealed his upper back, where the flesh and tattoos were marred with old scars. Some were short, but looked like a knife had gone deep, while others were long and narrow, more like he had taken a belt to his back in punishment. Merle's mouth and throat suddenly felt completely dry as he released the remains of Daryl's shirt, taking one step back.

"I-I didn't know he was-"

"Yea, you did," Daryl snapped back at his brother, trying to fix his unsalvageable shirt before he gave up and snatched his pack off of the ground and hefted it onto his shoulder. His voice trembled in a way that Merle hadn't heard in a _very_ long time and the sound of it made him sick. His baby brother, the one who had always tried to appear like he wasn't afraid of anything, like nothing could break his rough exterior, sounded like the scared younger brother that he truly was. "That's why you left first," Daryl continued, his voice holding a stronger tone.

"I had to, man," Merle tried to defend himself, watching as Daryl retrieved his crossbow and an arrow from the ground. "I woulda killed him otherwise!"

Daryl didn't comment on his brother's plea, but instead turned and continued through the woods, in the direction he had been leaving before Merle pulled him to a stop and tore his shirt. His steps faltered a moment on the uneven ground, but he collected himself again and continued walking, making sure to be more careful about where he stepped.

"Hey, where you goin'?" Merle demanded after he got no response from his brother.

Turning to face Merle, still standing in the same spot, Daryl wanted to sneer at him but refrained. "Back where I belong. I never should have left her for _you_."

Unseen by Daryl, as he turned his back, Merle flinched at the words. "Then why did ya? Huh? You know that I can't go with ya; I tried to kill that black bitch. Damn near killed the Chinese kid." Merle actually looked worried that Daryl was just going to leave him, but he couldn't help but to know that he was getting all that he deserved. Everything that he had done to Daryl, and to those that Daryl cared about, he didn't have any right to keep Daryl with him.

Damn little Blue Jay was right, he was going to lose the only family that he had let. And it wouldn't even be because of the Governor, but his own idiotic choices.

Daryl huffed once as he shook his head. "He's Korean," he corrected.

Merle almost stuttered over himself before throwing his arms out, "Whatever! Doesn't matter man, I just can't go with ya!"

Bowing his head to look at the ground, Daryl played with the arrow in his hand. Running his fingers over the smooth wood until he reached the feathers at the back, he shook his head with his silent decision. He had already made the wrong decision once, leaving Jamie behind so he could be with his brother. Not only had he left his wife behind, the woman that he would have given anything for, but he had done so voluntarily. She'd probably hate him when he got back, but he'd work to regain her trust. On top of leaving Jamie, he had abandoned his family when they needed him most. He had left them, and _her_ , to the mercy of the Governor.

Glancing back up at Merle, he pointed to his elder brother with the arrow in his hand. "You know, I may be the one who's walkin' away, but you're the one who's leavin'. Again."

Merle looked around the area that he was standing, unsure of whether or not to follow after his brother. He wanted to, he truly did, but he also knew that going to that prison could very well be putting himself before the barrel of a gun. Looking through the trees at Daryl's retreating back, Merle's chest ached.

When was the last time he made a decision for his brother's safety over his own?

Swearing under his breath, the elder of the Dixon brothers moved to follow Daryl, needing to run to catch up with his brother.

"She knows about the scars, doesn't she?" Merle asked without any sort of easing into the conversation, causing Daryl to look at him sharply.

"What do you think?" Daryl retorted smartly.

_Daryl woke lazily to the feeling of soft fingers caressing along his bare back, warm breath ghosting along his left shoulder blade. He was lying on his stomach, arm under the pillow that his face was buried within, the other arm draped over a warm pair of thighs. Next to him, Jamie was leaning on one elbow, raising her torso up to lean over Daryl, with her other hand tracing along his angel tattoos, soon joined with the scars that marred them._

_Letting out a long breath, Daryl pulled the arm that was over her legs, forcing her closer to him and alerting her that he was awake. Instead of greeting him with a good morning, mostly since it was three A.M, the blonde woman leaned down to press a moist kiss against his back, over the longest scar._

_In reply, Daryl began to caress up and down her bare thigh, the skin warm and soft. She had just showered before he arrived that evening, smelling of some kind of exotic fruit with her skin rubbed and luffa'd to perfection._

_Her lips lifted against his skin, a smile touching her expression, before she manoeuvred around his arm to straddle that backs of his thighs and resume her kisses, while beginning to massage all along his back. Groaning at the deep push of her knuckles and palms, Daryl relaxed fully under her ministrations. Jamie continued to kiss along his back, down his spine and over every imperfection that was there. She didn't skip over a single scar, or freckle or tattoo._

_Once she had made a complete downward sweep of his back, Jamie moved to lie fully on his back and kiss the back of his neck, her tongue peeking out to moisten the skin there, tasting the salt from sweat that had risen over his flesh only hours before. Reaching back to take a fistful of firm thigh in his hand, Daryl held her still as she lay flat on his back. He could feel the swell of her breasts, the firmness of her stomach and the inward curve of her pelvis just over his lower back._

_She didn't stop touching him, however, as she continued to caress her knuckles along his arms with a feathery touch. Planting another kiss beneath his ear, Jamie lay her head against Daryl's and fully enveloped him in warmth as her body layered his, as if she was trying to shield him from the past. In a way, she was, covering up the marks of his nightmares with not just a bandage or shirt—meant to hide them—but her own flesh._

Jamie stood with Carl after they had let Glenn out of the gate for the prison, exchanging concerned looks as the Korean flew down the road, leaving clouds of dust in his wake. "He's really angry," Carl started, glancing between Jamie and the darkness of the trees. "When we were in the tunnels he just…wouldn't stop."

"I don't know what happened between him, Maggie and the Governor back at Woodbury, but it really affected Glenn. Merle beat the shit out of him and that made him angry at Merle, but whatever the Governor did…he's out for blood."

Carl bit his lip as he looked at the ground, his fingers still looped in the fence as Jamie leaned against it beside him, resting the bruised foot. No one knew about it, but it wasn't that bad so she had a feeling that she could heal up without having people telling her to get off of her feet. "Do you think the Governor…did something…to Maggie, I mean," he mumbled out, unsure how to ask the question.

Jamie knew what he was trying to say, though, and exhaled deeply. "No, I don't think anything went that far. Had it…I'm sure Glenn would already be at Woodbury to kill the Governor. It wasn't that bad, but it was enough for them to be thoroughly shaken."

"What about you?" Carl asked, glancing up at Jamie. She raised an eyebrow at him, not sure what he was asking. "Did you meet the Governor while you were there?"

Her lips pursed as her eyes narrowed, thinking back to that little room. "Yea, I met him. He's definitely got a couple of screws loose, that's for sure. But…when I taunted him, threatened him, he promised me that he'd kill everyone here. By the time he came to me, he's already found out we were at the prison." Carl reached over to snag Jamie's shirt in his hand, drawing her attention down to him once more. The frown marring her face disappeared as he looked up at her with a faint smile.

"We'll get through it, Jamie. And…I think that Daryl's gunna come back. I mean, we're his family and he'd never just leave like that. Especially with _you_ here."

Giving a sad smile, Jamie took Carl's hand in hers, squeezing it tightly before she gave it a soft pat. "I hope you're right, little man."

Sharing one last smile with Carl, Jamie closed her eyes and took a deep breath of the warm air, feeling the wind brush her hair away from her neck and cool the heated skin. It was a hot day out, and running all over the yard because of Glenn's new drill sergeant attitude was not helping at all. Reaching down, Jamie scratched at the bandage on her arm, a crisp white after Hershel had stitched and bandaged her cut up.

"You go on up, check what the others are up to."

Looking out over the field, Jamie's attentions were caught on the fact that Hershel was out in the yard, hobbling his way over the uneven terrain to try and get back to the main courtyard. "Alright, I'll see you there," Carl agreed, seeing what had caught her attention. Jamie left the gravel path in favor of the long grass, making her way over to Hershel as her foot caused her to give a faint limp before she forced the pain aside.

"What are you doin' out here?" she asked calmly as soon as she had reached a couple of feet away from the white haired man.

"Talking to Rick," he answered, but he sounded weary. "He just needs time. I think that everything that's been happening has sat in his head for too long," he explained as Jamie joined him at his side, walking with him in case he tripped or tipped.

Before she could comment back to the older man, a single gunshot echoed through the area. Jamie's head snapped up to look toward the courtyard, wondering if someone had shot a walker, but instead they were all ducked down as though to avoid getting hit themselves.

She froze.

Turning to stare out toward the fences bordering the prison, Jamie stared at the appearance of a truck just outside of their property. Standing next to the truck was the Governor and several of his men, holding automatic machine guns that were trained on her and her family. But she couldn't move. Staring at that man, that dead look still on his face, he didn't seem to care who he was shooting at; he only wanted them all to suffer.

"Jamie!" Hershel shouted, grabbing at the woman's arm and pulling her roughly to the ground when he saw that she wasn't moving on her own. Only a second after she was out of their sights, bullets showered down around them. Thrown backward because of Hershel, Jamie's head ricocheted hard off of the compacted Earth, causing her to hiss and jerk in pain. "Stay low," Hershel ordered the woman, almost glaring at her.

Why hadn't she ducked down?

Looking around to try and survey the yard, to see what they were dealing with, Hershel frowned at what he saw.

Someone had been able to get up one of the guard towers on the outside fencing and they were standing at the top now, firing down at anyone he could see. "Stay down!" Hershel yelled at her, but Jamie was focused on the shooter. She was staring at his with wide eyes, lifted partially off the ground to get a better look. Her vision was briefly unfocused from the smack on the back of the head, and Hershel could tell she wasn't only focusing on his because she knew that he was not one of theirs.

"The fucking Governor," she growled out, rolling onto her stomach and beginning to crawl along with Hershel, hoping to get further away from the fence. The grass concealed them well, but the newcomers had a bit of an advantage when it came to ammunition and guns.

"Can you see the others? Are they safe?" Hershel asked her a moment later. Jamie pocked her head up just barely, trying to look around.

"I can't see anyone. There's a body in the courtyard, it's Axel I think."

"Where's Maggie and Beth?" Hershel insisted. Jamie didn't have time to get a better look as more shots caused her to duck back down, dirt flying all over the place and causing her to close her eyes against the assault. But then it stopped.

"That's never good," Jamie mumbled to herself, keeping completely still. "Don't move," she scolded Hershel when he tried to take that opportunity to look around.

" _Beth!_ "

Both lifted their heads to look up in time to see Maggie rush out of the prison with two more guns, another hanging at her back. Beth ran from where she had been hiding to take the guns, more than likely for her and Carl, before they were both forced to hide away again when the Governor's men began firing at them once more.

Rolling onto her back again, Jamie finally pulled her handgun from her belt and began to blindly fire at where the Governor had been standing, parked just outside of the fence with some of his men with him. Whoever had been shooting at her and Hershel stopped, but Jamie highly doubted that it was because she'd actually been able to hit them. Lying in the dirt, they remained silent and still. No one was firing, not the Governor and not their group, creating a silent standstill between them all.

"Do you hear that?" Jamie asked a moment later, the sound of a truck catching her attention.

"Glenn?" Hershel offered.

Listening carefully, Jamie shook her head a moment later. "No, too loud. Too big. This is something else, and it's moving fast."

Only a moment later did the sound of the fences breaking draw Jamie's attention, jolting her into a sitting position as she watched an orange and white truck plow through both of their fences at the front gate, taking them clean off. The truck drove deep into the yard before halting sharply. The engine was still running and the back of the truck was facing her and Hershel, but nothing seemed to be happening.

With a loud boom, the back of the truck dropped down to make a ramp, leaving the truck itself gaping open. Squinting her eyes, Jamie tried to see into the truck to get some clue as to what to expect. Her breath hitched when walkers came rushing out of the opening, stumbling down the ramp and into the yard. "Fuck," she hissed, feeling Hershel inch backward beside her. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

The one who had been driving the truck jumped out the passenger side and made a run for the gate, shooting at Michonne behind the bus as he or she ran past. Jamie lifted her gun with one hand, supporting her body weight with the other, and following after the person with the barrel of the gun. Taking the shot just before they'd have gone out of sight, she would tell that she had clipped their side with a bullet but hadn't killed them when the person nearly fell.

"Come on!" Hershel nearly yelled at Jamie, pulling on her leg from where he was a bit behind her, trying to get her to move. The walkers were getting closer to them, whether because they knew they were there or just by luck they didn't know, but they couldn't stay to find out.

Rolling around, Jamie began a mad crawl through the grass, trying to make sure that Hershel was able to keep up. The sound of tires skidding on gravel made Jamie look up, seeing the truck that the pickup truck that the Govern was driving had nearly collided with Glenn as he was making his way out. "They're leaving," she gasped, before bolting up onto her feet and rushing to help Hershel. At least now they didn't have to worry about getting shot at. "Make for the courtyard," she ordered the older man.

"There's too many walkers," he argued.

"Glenn!" Jamie shouted as soon as she spotted the silver pickup truck making its way into the yard. Keeping Hershel close, Jamie use her gun to pick off the walkers that were closest too them until Glenn could get in range to save Hershel. Michonne joined them as Glenn skidded to a stop and hopped from the truck, helping Michonne to take the older man's weight and rush him to the truck.

Jamie quickly ran back to where she and Hershel had started out, snatching the man's crutches from the ground before she made a mad dash for the truck that Glenn was beginning to pull away in, turning so that she was running for the back of the truck bed. Tossing the crutches into the back, the woman herself hopped onto the back tailgate before the entire truck lurched and made for the courtyard gates.

Picking off walkers that got too close to her, Jamie held onto the back hatch of the truck for her life as Glenn barrelled along the pathway as fast as he could. Carl and Beth were already there, opening the gates, while Maggie and Carol kept a careful eye on the area.

The truck came to a screeching halt as soon as they were in the gate, door popping open as Maggie rushed to check on her father. Jamie released her death-grip on the back of the truck and hopped down carefully, nearly tackled by Carl as he ran at her. "You alright?" she asked in a winded tone, taking his chin in her hand to angle his face, taking in his appearance.

"I'm fine, not a scratch," he assured.

Turning her attention away from Carl, Jamie faced the yard. Already it was filling up with walkers, making it appear the same as it had the day they had found it. Clenching the gun in her hand, Jamie stepped up to the fence as the others followed suit, taking everything in carefully. They had literally just drove through their defences like it was a spider web and bombed their yard with walkers.

"I guess the Governor means war," she mumbled venomously.

"Jamie," Carol began carefully, her hand lowering onto the other woman's shoulder. "Look."

Turning her attention to where Carol's finger was pointing, Jamie's hands tightened on the fence links when she spotted three forms making their way through the walkways between the fences. Daryl was walking closer to Rick than he was to Merle, his crossbow still in his hands instead of slung over his shoulder. All three men appeared rather mussed, having had to fight off the walkers outside of the fence.

The people around Jamie expected the woman to smile, to run to greet him, but she didn't.

Expression falling blank, Jamie turned her back on the fence. "Come on, we should get inside before the Governor kills someone else."


	16. Lay Me Down to Sleep

Daryl paced the top floor of the cellblock as he listened to the others argue on the bottom level, trying to decide whether they should stay or leave. Rick and Glenn both were adamant about staying, while Hershel was trying very hard to convince them that they'd have better chances on the road. Jamie had been silent during the entire affair, and that was starting to eat at Daryl. When he had come back with Rick, Merle tagging along, she hadn't said a word to him. She hadn't yelled at him, slapped him or even _looked_ at him. She was just standing on the bottom floor, her back to him as she leaned on the railing of the stairs, ignoring him.

That had been the day before, and she had spent the entire night off in the tombs of the prison with Rick, Carl or Glenn. They continued to try and persuade the woman to go lie down, sleep for a bit, but Jamie refused to go back to the cellblock. Not only was Merle there, but Daryl was as well.

"If Rick says we're not running, we're not running," Glenn tried to enforce, looking between the others of the group. Everyone was already weary after the gunfight they had been through, losing Axel in the process.

"No," Merle said from through the barred doors, locked out of the block. "Better to live like rats."

Almost everyone turned to look at him. "You got a better idea?" Rick asked first.

"Yea. We shoulda slid out of here last night, live to fight another day. But we lost that window, didn't we? I'm sure he's got scouts on every road out of this place by now."

"Yea, well we ain't scared of that prick," Daryl called from the top floor. Merle was looking to Jamie as his brother spoke, wondering if she would react. Nothing. She was giving him and Daryl the silent treatment, which was actually far worse than her yelling or hitting. He didn't know her as well as his baby brother did, but he had seen her when she was like this. A time bomb, but you didn't know the detonation time. She was liable to go off on them at any moment, and they'd never see it coming.

"Y'all should be," he said, answering Daryl. "That truck through the fence thing? That's just him ringing the doorbell. We might have some thick walls to hide behind but he's got the guns and the numbers. And if he takes the high ground around this place? Shoot, he could just starve us out if he wanted to."

"Let's put him in the other cellblock," Maggie suggested, clearly unsettled at having Merle so close to all of them,

"No, he's got a point," Daryl argued, sounding rather resigned over the situation.

"This is all you!" Maggie yelled as she faced Merle, leaning casually against the bars of the door. "You started this!"

"What's the difference whose fault it is?" Beth interrupted before Maggie could go any further into her accusations. Moving to stand at the top of the stairs, she looked down at the quarrelling group. "What do we do?"

"I said we should leave," Hershel reminded, looking Rick. "Now Axel's dead. We _can't_ just sit here."

Looking up from where she had blindly been staring forward at the wall, Jamie watched as Rick turned to walk away from Hershel, not wanting to listen to the other man's reasoning anymore. Hershel, however, was not going to have Rick run away from him again. He had let the man do that too many times already, and he was not going to let him do it again if that meant putting those he cared about in danger.

" _Get back here_!"

Hearing Hershel, the usually cool tempered man that everyone saw as calm and gentle, yell so loud the entire cellblock echoed was a bit of a surprise. However, it stopped Rick. He stilled after only a couple of long strides away from Hershel, having been moving for the door that Merle was standing behind. Beginning to move toward Rick, his crutches tapping the ground, no one dared to breathe a word.

"You're slipping, Rick. We've all seen it, we understand why. But _now_ is not the time," Hershel scolded loudly, sounding more and more the father that he was. "You once said this was a democracy—now you have to own up to that. I put my family's life in your hands." Rick finally turned to look at Hershel, the man staring at him in complete seriousness. Over his shoulders, the others all watched as well, Jamie included. "So get your head clear and _do_ something."

It was hard to tell just how much Hershel was able to get through to Rick, because he still ended up leaving. Jamie heaved a sigh as she leaned more heavily against the railing, not sure what they could do to help Rick at this point. Standing in silence, no one spoke until Carl left after his father, leaving the group to wonder if the son could get through to his father any better than Hershel could.

Pushing away from the stairs, Jamie glanced over to where Merle was looking at her through the bars of the door. It was strange, though, since he was not glaring or sneering. He almost looked guilty as he looked at her, at the state that she was in. Even after a day had gone by and she'd had her adrenaline pumping from the Governor's visit, Jamie still looked like death warmed over. She was pale and bruised, but she didn't cower down again.

Putting her back to him, knowing that the last person she was going to be able to figure out was Merle, Jamie stretched her arms over her head, cracking stiff shoulder joints loudly. They couldn't leave the cellblock, the tombs were flooded again and the courtyard was possibly being watched by snipers. She felt claustrophobic already.

"How's your arm?" Beth asked carefully as Jamie walked past where she was standing on the stairs. Her right forearm was wrapped tightly in clean bandages after Hershel had carefully cleaned the already stitched injury, replacing her bandages. All of the running around during the attack had pulled her wound, but thankfully left the stitches intact.

"Kind of burns," she answered honestly. "It's my head that hurts," she continued a moment later, bringing a hand up to message the bump on the back of her skull. She knew, without actually seeing it, that it would be bruised purple and blue already. "Honestly, Hershel, I think you were literally aiming for a rock when you pulled me down."

Hershel shook his head at the woman, but didn't comment on her tease.

"That aspirin should kick in soon," the younger blonde assured, offering a timid smile. Jamie offered a wry smile of her own, leaning her good arm against the railing.

"You said that ten minutes ago," she stage whispered rather loudly, causing Carol to grin in the background. "Whenever I used to have really bad headaches, nothing could help it. Not aspirin, not Advil or Ibuprofen."

"Ice," Daryl said from the upper floor, not looking down at them. He was staring at the windows, the only source of light, as he listened to their conversation. "Only way you got rid of your headaches was with an ice pack." Beth could see the amusement that had appeared in Jamie's eyes leave just as quickly, the blonde woman looking angry for a moment before she just turned and walked away again, pacing under the walkway Daryl was standing on so that he couldn't see her.

Beth looked up at the younger Dixon, seeing that Jamie's reaction had caused Daryl's shoulders to drop, looking away to hide his expression. As much as Beth loved Daryl, and was so happy that he was back, she knew that he deserved the cold shoulder that Jamie was giving him. She had been torn apart when she returned to the prison, so she wasn't about to let Daryl waltz right back in like there was nothing wrong with his decision.

He had made his bed, so he was going to lie in it.

Pacing as she was, it would have been hard for Jamie not to notice the way that Merle was glancing between where she was pacing and where Daryl as standing. Rick and Carl had left the door open, knowing that Merle couldn't do anything when they were all there. Killing anyone in that prison would be his own death anyway.

Finally fed up with the constant looks, Jamie marched across the space of the bottom floor to step into the anteroom with Merle.

"Somethin' you wanna say?" she asked plainly, passing by him in favour of going to their supplies for a drink of water. Merle followed after her at a slower pace, knowing that this was her way of initiating a conversation with him.

"Why're you torturing my brother? Came back, didn't he?"

Scoffing rather loudly, Jamie moved to one of the tables in the room with her cup of water, swirling the liquid around inside. "He still left," she answered after a moment, her voice dropping all pretenses of bravado to show Merle the true pain that he had already seen in her eyes. "Whether or not he came back, even if it had been an hour after he took off, he still left me here of his own free will."

"And it's because of you that he came back," Merle reminded, falling to sit across the table from her, rubbing at the forearm that lacked a hand, the contraption clearly irritating the skin. "That and my own dumbass mistakes," he tacked on after a moment, reluctant to say anything to the woman about it, but knowing that she'd just figure it out in the end.

"Tried to kill someone, didn't ya?" she sneered.

"Rob a family with a baby after he'd saved 'em," Merle corrected, getting a glare that matched the one Daryl had given him when he had been aiming the crossbow at his head. "Yea, he looked at me the same way, Little Bird, but don't worry. He won."

"Don't doubt it, or you two wouldn't be here."

Taking a long drink from the cup in her hand, Merle looked down at the bandage that encased her arm. It was faintly red after it had begun to bleed after the Governor's attack, but he could tell the dressings were fresh. "Sorry 'bout the arm," he commented offhandedly. "And the face," he added a moment later. Over the rim of the cup, he could see Jamie give a sarcastic smile.

"Is this where I apologize for breaking your face?" she asked, tilting her head to the side. "Keep fishing, old man, ya ain't getting it."

"Bitch."

"Jackass."

They lapsed into silence once more, neither of them saying another word for a couple of minutes. Merle took in the woman sitting across from him, comparing her to the one that he had always pictured in his mind. He had thought on it again and again, whether Daryl had found her again after he'd escaped from that roof. He always wondered what happened to his brother, and what happened to the woman that had changed his brother so much. Jamie had always been different from most of the women he encountered, mostly because she was the kind of person that would have taken that belting from their father to save Daryl the pain.

That was one of the things that caused Merle to develop a grudging respect for her. He'd never admit it though.

But this Jamie, even the one that he had first seen outside of that store with Glenn and Maggie, had seemed so different. He almost didn't recognize her, pale and thin, with scars and a hardened exterior to match the equally hardened interior. She looked worn but strong. Whenever he saw her and Daryl together in the past, she's always looked so soft. Sure, she was strong and could hold her own in certain situations, but she had always looked like if you touched her she'd feel unreal, like a smoke.

Now, she was hardened and real. The world had moulded her into the person she was meant to become, not what society deemed her to be. She had always fought the norms of the town they lived in, especially when it came to the reactions about her relationship with Daryl. So many times he'd heard people mock her or tease her about her redneck boyfriend, and more often than not she'd either just flip them the bird or make a comment about awesome sex that would cause them to become too uncomfortable to retaliate.

He'd always known that this woman would be his brother's saving grace, his Angel.

The only regret that he had was that, as a brother, it hadn't been him saving Daryl. Protecting him as he was supposed to, keeping his baby brother out of the warpath their father created.

"You gunna keep him dangling like a worm on a hook, or ya gunna forgive him?" Merle asked randomly, causing Jamie to pause with the cup halfway to her lips. Hazel eyes slanted in his direction, meeting his blue eyes with a cautious stare.

"To give forgiveness, one must first ask forgiveness," she countered, turning to face him more fully. "Tell me, Merle. Before you went and showed him just how much of an ass you are, did he have thoughts of turning back."

"Never voiced 'em, but I knew he wanted to," Merle admitted, nodding his head. "He'd make offhand comments about you, how you'd do something or would have done in that situation. You always seemed to be what was on his mind. You're Daryl's voice of reason, his little Jiminy Cricket, whispering away in his head whenever he's gotta make a big boy decision." The blonde snorted at his choice of words, leaned back in her seat even as Merle leaned forward on the table. "He came back here for you. Stop making the poor bastard suffer."

"That poor bastard didn't seem to give a damn about my suffering," she sneered in return. "You wouldn't know what it felt like, Merle," she growled out before rising to her feet sharply. "He chose you, after all," Jamie tossed over her shoulder as she made her way back into the cellblock, leaving her brother-in-law to sit in silence.

He hadn't thought of it like that.

Not wanting to stay in the cellblock when Daryl was just above her, Jamie went out to help Carl with his watch when Maggie came inside for a break. Carl was looking through the only set of binoculars that they had, so she was left to try and look out against the sunlight, hanging from her hands on one of the upper beams in boredom.

"Hey, Jay, there's something weird out there," Carl commented, causing Jamie to drop from where she had been doing mock chin-ups, snatching the rifle that Maggie had passed on to her, and aiming it to get a better look in the detection that Carl was facing.

Angling the scope, Jamie almost jerked in surprise when she spotted a familiar blonde woman making her way through the long grass, guiding a walker in front of her with a pole clamped around its neck. "Well, fuck me sideways," she mumbled to herself. "It's Andrea," she told Carl, knowing that he had heard her first comment but decided not to reply to it. "Go get your dad."

Keeping an eye on Andrea through the riffle, Jamie was left alone as Carl quickly ran off to get Rick and whoever else was there. She watched as Andrea made her way through the broken front gates, along the winding path and straight through the gatherings of walkers. The walker that she had in front of her, arms and jaws missing, seemed to act as a deterrent for the other walkers. It reminded Jamie of how she'd carried one on her back to get off the farm, only this method was much less crude.

Rick came rushing out of the doors from C-Block with everyone behind him, Glenn and Maggie moved to the catwalk above the courtyard as the others fanned out behind the vehicles. Only when they were able to confirm that Andrea was alone, with none of the Governor's men watching them from the perimeter, did they approach the gates that kept Andrea out.

"Are you alone?" Rick demanded the moment he reached the fence.

"Open the gates," Andrea ordered in return, still holding the walker before her.

"Are you alone?" Rick repeated, a further harshness to his words.

Andrea shouted his name, unbelieving that he was so mistrusting about her. Rick only hesitated a moment more before he tossed his keys to Daryl, letting the man unlock the gate. Andrea released the walker from her and immediately rushed through the small gap in the fence, but ran right into Rick who immediately pushed her into the fence and demanded that she drop all weapons.

Bringing her to her knees with her arms up, Rick took her bag from her and kicked away the hatchet that she had dropped upon entering through the fence. "I asked if you were alone," he growled down at her, clearly not pleased to have the woman among them.

"I am," she gasped out, appalled at the way that they were treating her. She had once been a part of the group, their friend, and they were acting like she was the enemy.

Jamie nudged Carl from where they were up in the watch box, old skids covering the fences to keep them somewhat protected, and they made their way down to the courtyard with the others. Clearly, they Governor didn't have anyone out there right now, or they would already have been shot down when out in the open.

Keeping the rifle on her shoulder, Jamie jogged down the steps with Carl just behind her. Andrea looked up in surprise, taking in all of the familiar faces that were coming out of the woodwork, revealing just how many had survived the incident at the farm. Rick passed Jamie the satchel that Andrea had been carrying with her, telling her to search it as he picked up the hatchet she had as a weapon. The blonde remained on her knees in the circle of familiar faces, unable to take in the abuse that her sudden appearance had been granted.

"Welcome back," Rick greeted borderline sarcastically before he grabbed Andrea's upper arm and hefted her up, guiding her toward the prison as the others made a perimeter around, no one lowering their guns against any potential threat.

Everyone flooded back into the anteroom of the cellblock, crowding around the newest face.

Andrea greeted Carol with a hug first, before she took in Hershel's missing limb. Looking around, she couldn't seem to be able to process everything that was right before her eyes, looking over the people that she had spent so much of the past two years living with. "I can't believe this," she breathed out, looking from Jamie over to Daryl, distantly wondering when they had the entire room between them. "Where's Shane?"

Looking to Rick for an answer, the man could only shake his head and turn away from her.

"And Lori?" she continued, sounding desperate.

"She had a baby girl," Jamie answered, her calm tone sounding like a shout in the otherwise silent room. "But Lori didn't make it."

"Neither did T-Dog," Maggie added on.

"I'm so sorry," Andrea choked out, taking in the battered appearances of all her friends. Bringing up the deaths of those who had once been with them only served to renew the pain, and they all looked down trodden because of it. Andrea's eyes landed on where Carl was standing beside Jamie. "Oh…Carl," she starting, wanting to offer her condolences somehow. He just held her stare and didn't say anything. "Rick, I-" the man stepped back from Andrea when she moved toward him, trying to offer him the same, but he wouldn't have it either.

Like father like son.

Choosing not to take it personally, Andrea took a moment to look around the interior of the prison. "You all live here?"

"Here in the cellblock," Glenn answered for everyone.

"There?" Andrea asked, pointing toward the opened, barred doors of their cellblock, where they had been living, calling home. "Well, can I go in?" she asked, taking a couple of steps forward. Daryl jerked to move, intercept her, at the same time that Rick stepped into her path, rather threateningly.

"I won't allow that," he blocked.

Andrea stepped back, clearly offended. "I'm not an enemy."

"No," Jamie called mockingly. "Just sleeping with one." Andrea glanced over at her, taking in her beaten appearance. Her cheek was bruised blue and green and she looked downright tired. They all looked tired.

"We use to have that field, the courtyard. All of it; before your boyfriend tore down the fence with a truck and shot us up," Rick continued, holding a hand out toward Jamie, knowing that she was steaming with rage. She would take out her anger for the Governor on Andrea if she had the chance, and Rick didn't want her to do that. She'd end up regretting it later.

Shaking her head in disbelief, Andrea countered, "He said you fired first."

"No one even knew that he was there," Jamie called over again. "Hershel and I were out in the field, Rick was on the other side of the fence. Maggie, Carl, Beth…they almost got shot in the courtyard. Another man that we had with us, a prisoner that had survived here named Axel, he died. Got shot in the head." Andrea appeared to pale as Jamie told her of what happened. "That was all before they took down our gates with the truck and dropped walkers on our doorstep. Hershel's got one leg, good chance he wouldn't have made it out if Glenn hadn't had the truck to drive over and get us."

"Axel was a good man, and he'd survived in here all this time."

"We liked him, he was one of us," Daryl added on after Hershel had spoken up.

A hand over her mouth, Andrea shook her head. "I didn't know about any of that. I came here as soon as I had heard." No one really reacted to her unspoken plea. "I didn't even know you were in Woodbury until after the shootout!"

"That was _days_ ago," Glenn reminded her.

"I told you that I came as soon as I could," Andrea tried to defend, but no one was softening up to her. Carol looked a bit reluctant but not untrusting, but everyone else seemed to have a wall up around themselves, staring at her like she was a snake in the nest. Rounding around, Andrea faced where Michonne was leaning against one of the cages. "What have you told them?"

"Nothing," she answered simply.

Andrea was getting angry. "I don't get it, I left Atlanta with you people and now I'm the odd man out?"

"He tried to kill Michonne, he would have killed us-"

"With his finger on the trigger!" Andrea interrupted, pointing toward Merle. "Isn't he the one who kidnapped you? Who beat you?"

"A dog following his master's command," Jamie said airily, getting a hot glare from Merle that she just sneered back at. "Everything that happened there was at the word of the Governor. Guess what he said to me when he came to my little prison cell in his warehouse," she challenged, adjusting her hold on her rifle to cross her arms in front of her. Andrea couldn't say anything; she didn't know. "He told me that he'd kill everyone here. That he'd make me watch as he killed everyone that I loved."

Lifting her hands to her face, covering it for a second, Andrea was either trying to process her words or push them from her mind. "I cannot excuse, or explain, what Phillip as done. But I am here trying to bring us together. We have to work this out-"

"There's nothing to work out," Rick interrupted before she could get carried away. "We're gunna kill him. I don't know how, or when, but we will." That was a promise made, and a promise that he would keep.

"We can settle this," Andrea tried again, "There is room at Woodbury. For _all_ of you."

Merle actually laughed from where he was standing at the top of the stairs. "You know better than that."

"None so deaf as those that will not hear. None so blind as those that will not see," Jamie recited in boredom, moving to lean against one of the tables. "After all we've told you, everything that you know the Governor has done, you're gunna go back? You think you can convince us to _join_ you?"

"What makes you think this man wants to negotiate?" Hershel seconded. "Did he say that?"

"No."

"Then why did you come here?" Rick demanded, beginning to lose his patience with the entire thing. Jamie could see that he didn't really like having Andrea here, since she had never done a thing to show they could trust her anymore.

Andrea looked just as fed up as he did. "Because he's gearing up for war. The people are terrified, they see you as killers. They're training to attack." However, even as she looked around at the familiar faces of the people she had survived with, not one of them looked back at her with sympathy. That town had done nothing to earn their pity.

"I'll tell you what…next time you see Philip, you tell him I'ma take his other eye," Daryl grumbled out, thinking over what Jamie had said. She hadn't told him that, never really had the chance to, he'd admit. To know that the Governor had been alone with her, threatened to kill them as she watched, it made his blood boil with renewed rage for the man. He had done enough, they had to put a stop to him before it went any further.

When Glenn spoke up, he looked like a man out for blood. His eyes were set in a narrow glare and his jaw was locked. He didn't seem to want to consider any other option as he stared down at Andrea. "We've taken too much shit for too long. You tell him that if he wants a war, he's got one."

"Rick, if you don't sit down, and try to work this out, I don't know what's gunna happen," Andrea tried to reason, facing the man who was clearly the leader of the group. He acted as the alpha male, coordinating all of the others around his choices, his actions. "He has a whole town. Look at you, you've lost so much already. You can't stand alone anymore."

Jamie scoffed at her words. Did they look alone? There weren't alone, even with those they had lost along the way—Andrea included. Their losses made them strong, even though they had to break them first, but they were not alone. Every day when they woke up knowing that they had to do everything they could to contribute to the group, keep their family safe.

"You're gunna make this right?" Rick asked, walking around Andrea to cut off her view of anyone else but _him_. "Get us inside."

Her answer was simple. "No."

Briskly passing her, marching toward the cellblock, Rick didn't even look back as he spoke, "Then we've got nothin' to talk about-"

"There are innocent people," Andrea almost shouted, trying to speak over him, to make him understand. He didn't turn back, and closed the door to the cellblock behind him in a silent action that spoke louder than words. She wasn't welcome.

Jamie pushed off from the table, lifted her rifle over her shoulder as Andrea continued to stare in the direction that Rick had gone. "There are innocent people here, too. Remember what I said five minutes ago? Lori had a baby girl. A newborn, without an ounce of malice in her and you think for a second that he gives a singly, solitary fuck about her? About showing her mercy?"

Closing her eyes at her words, Andrea couldn't think of anything she could say to defend the Governor.

Making her way to the cellblock as well, Jamie stopped just beside Andrea and leaned forward to whisper in the blonde's ear. "Remember that promise, Andrea. If you cause me to lose anyone that I love here, Daryl especially, I'll kill your boyfriend and then I'll kill you."


	17. Right Beneath Our Skin

Andrea didn't stay long, and by nightfall she was back at Woodbury while the group within the prison did what they could to relax against the knowledge of impending war. Andrea's words were ringing in all of their heads, telling them that the Governor really was gearing up for war. If he had the entire town ready to attack them, they wouldn't survive another surprise like the last one. Daryl stood with Hershel and Rick, listening to Beth sing—just like the first night at the prison, out in the yard—as everyone sat silently around the bottom floor. Rick was holding Judith in his arms, the little baby sound asleep.

"Some reunion, huh?" Daryl asked Rick as quietly as he could, even though the baritone of his voice carried. Rick didn't have to ask about which reunion he was talking about.

"She's in a jam," Rick countered, looking between Hershel and Daryl.

"We all are," the oldest man replied, watching his daughter as she sang. The lantern in front of her glowed golden with a small flame inside, lighting only enough for them to see faintly, but it made her shine as she sang. Everyone seemed content as they listened to her, the voice a haunting melody through the decrepit prison. "Andrea's persuasive. This fella's armed to the teeth, bent on destruction."

"So what do you want to do?" Daryl asked instantly.

"We match it," Rick answered just as fast, glancing down at Judith as she made a soft sound in her sleep, but didn't wake. "I'm goin' on a run."

"I'll head out tomorrow," Daryl offered, but Rick shook his head.

"No, you stay here. Keep an eye on your brother." At his words, Daryl glanced back over to where Merle was standing by the doors, as though he didn't want to intrude on their space. "I'm glad you're back, really. But if he causes a problem, it's on you."

Daryl nodded his head in understanding. "I got him."

"I'll take Michonne and Jamie," he continued, seeing Daryl tense at the man's words. "I know you want to talk to her, Daryl, but…you didn't see her. What she was like when we came back here. I think that giving her some time to cope with you bein' back will give her a bit more perspective. Right now she's just holding onto the anger that you were gone; you being back so suddenly didn't give her time to move past that anger."

Daryl grudgingly accepted, knowing that Jamie could take care of herself even if they ran into problems. "You sure she's a good idea?" he asked instead, nodding toward Michonne sitting on the floor near the stairs, facing toward the few sitting around the lantern but trying to keep her distance as well.

"I'll find out. And Carl—can hardly pry him away from Jamie anymore as it is. He's ready." Judith made soft fussing sounds as she bordered between awake and asleep, her little hands fisting near her face as it scrunched up for a moment. "You hold it down here."

"You got it," Daryl promised.

Outside of the prison, Jamie and Carl walked the fences of the courtyard with their guns in their hands, ready for any sign of an attack. They had put skids up all along the fence, leaving only the gate clear. Carl stopped to look between the gap in one of the skids' wooden boards, walkers walking passed on the other side. The two were silent, so they didn't draw the attention of the dead back to them.

Reaching for him, Jamie laid a hand out on Carl's shoulder when she saw how tense his hands were getting on his gun. Carl looked up at her, skin pale in the moonlight with her hazel eyes seemed darker than normal. His hold relaxed a bit as he nodded to her, continuing to walk along the edge of the fence.

Well, he'd been right about Daryl coming back.

In a way, he was greatly surprised that Jamie hadn't been happy that Daryl was back. Then again, if his dad abandoned him willingly, not knowing when he'd be back, Carl was sure that he'd be pretty angry at him. It was so strange, though, because he could see that Jamie wanted to go to Daryl. It was almost instinct at this point. She just gravitated toward him whenever he was nearby, but now she was fighting against that urge out of her own hard-headedness.

She was beginning to realize just how hard it was to fight your heart.

Jamie stood next to Carl, her arm draped over his shoulders to keep him close to her side. He seemed shy about the act at first, being so close to Jamie, but in the cool night air he didn't seem to want to leave the warmth that her body provided. Her hand eventually lifted to adjust the hat that he was wearing, but neither of them said anything.

Carl was hiding his face beneath his hat, preventing Jamie from looking at him, because he didn't want her to see that he was trying not to cry. His mother had held him that way so many times, before and after the dead had risen. It was hard to have someone else do something that he related to a motherly action, but at the same time he found that being able to feel Jamie so close was soothing for him. It reminded him that she was there, someone to share in his pain.

He tried not to think about what could have happened after he left with Maggie and Judith, leaving Jamie to take care of his mother's body. He hadn't expected her to carry Lori out with her, but he found he was grateful that she had. Before the Governor took the yard, he at least had somewhere to go to grieve for his lost mother.

Maggie and Glenn came out to get them a short while later, telling them that Rick wanted them on a run with him tomorrow so they'd best get their rest. As she was passing her, Maggie took Jamie's arm to draw her to a stop and told her where Daryl was staying, in a cell on the top floor. Jamie wasn't sure whether she told her so that Jamie could go to him, or to avoid him, but she nodded her thanks anyway and moved on.

She didn't go to him, but took a cell on the bottom floor instead. It had been the one she was in when she cleaned herself up after burying Lori, so she at least knew that it was relatively clear. Shaking out the sheets on the bed, dust flying up from the actions, Jamie kicked off her boots and proceeded to change. She just pulled on her clothes for the following day, a bit cleaner and something she wouldn't mind sleeping in. Others were still shuffling around, but she was quick as she changed her underwear and pulled on a pair of female cargo pants, a bit tighter to the leg than a male's, and a loose tank top that she'd just put a bra on underneath in the morning.

Hissing as her shirt rubbed along the bruise and bump on the back of her head, Jamie was half stuck with her tank top up as she stopped cold from the pain, hands moving to her head. Thankfully her back was to the cell door otherwise she might have flashed someone walking passed her new bedroom. She had kept her hair in a low pony-tail to avoid pain that day, but it didn't help anything _now_.

A hand suddenly pulled at her shirt, lowering it the rest of the way down her back and obscuring her torso. Glancing over her shoulder, Jamie had fully expected for it to be Daryl. Instead, Rick was standing behind her. In his hand was the blanket from the bed she and Daryl had shared, the one that he had used as a pillow. Sometime while she was on watch Carol had taken their makeshift bed apart and made up a space in one of the cells. She had probably thought that she and Daryl would share the cell together.

"I thought you'd at least want this," he said in greeted as she took the blanket into her hands, feeling the soft, worn cotton on her fingers. "Don't worry, I won't tell Daryl," he whispered as he leaned in, like he was telling her a secret. Jamie grinned in mirth as she shook her head. However, she still stepped up and wrapped an arm around the man in gratitude.

"Thank you, Rick," she mumbled into his shoulder as he returned the embrace.

"Get some sleep, we're leaving early," he told her, keeping his voice low for those who were still sleeping. Pulling back to kiss the hair on the side of Jamie's head, Rick didn't linger much longer and instead moved to his own cell for the night. He'd be taking the early morning shift, relieving Maggie and Glenn, so he'd already be awake when the others needed to get up as well.

Curling herself into her bed, Jamie faced the wall as she bundled Daryl's blanket under her head, using it as her pillow. Subconsciously, she began twisting the ring on her finger again. After everything that had happened that day, she was emotionally and physically exhausted so it didn't take her long to fall asleep. Her body felt heavy, pulling her down into the black of unconsciousness as the world faded away from her.

Worries and doubts, fears and hopes, everything disappeared in the wake of sleep as Jamie drove headlong into the reprieve.

But the world always has a way of creeping back inside.

 _Hunkered down beneath the counter of the local convenience store, Jamie was as silent as she had ever been her whole life. A hand clamped over her mouth and nose, forcing her to hold her breath so as not to make_ any _noise, the woman didn't even dare to blink. She could hear the rasping of the walkers that had boxed her in, just on the other side of the counter. A flimsy piece of wood that she could have kicked through was all that kept them from getting to her._

_Her body jumped against her will when one of the walkers stumbled and ended up slamming into the counter above her, causing the sound to appear that much louder around her. Eyes widening as she winced heavily, she could hear other walkers move closer to the counter. She must have banged against the side when she jumped and drew their attention to her._

_Looking around her line of sight wildly, she couldn't find any sort of weapon to use. She had no more ammo in the gun that she had found and she'd already lost the kitchen knife that she'd taken from the apartment. Her eyes darted frantically in every direction, but the place had already been ransacked as it was._

_Cursing loudly inside her head, Jamie closed her eyes for a moment as she willed for some way out._

_Before she could even open her eyes, gunshots echoed through the store and caused her body to lock up for a moment. But the rasping stopped. No other sound came from the walkers, she presumed now dead. Breathing heavily now, no longer trying to remain silent, Jamie struggled out from under the counter and looked timidly overtop of it._

" _Hey, you a'right sweetheart?"_

_A woman was standing in the doorway of the store, already broken from people trying to get supplies in the mad dash out of town, with a handgun lowered to the ground. She was by herself, but she clearly knew how to handle that gun. Rising up onto shaking legs, Jamie looked down at the blood splattered counter, one body draped over it while the others piled on the floor._

" _Thank you," she finally breathed out, almost feeling like she was supposed to raise her hands to show she was defenseless in the face of someone with a gun._

" _You alone?"_

" _Yea," Jamie confirmed with a jerky nod._

" _Hun, you look scared to death. Come on, I'm holed up not far from here. Let's get some food in you before you hit the floor." Walking on wobbling legs around the counter, Jamie couldn't take her eyes off of the dead bodies. "Don't worry, it was a headshot, they ain't getting back up."_

" _Where'd you get that gun?" Jamie finally asked, looking up at the woman. She was older than her, with dark brown hair that had started to grey around the temples. "I-I had one, but I ran out of ammo and I lost it back in the other town-"_

_The woman's arm came down on Jamie's shoulder. "Calm down, sweetie, just breathe. Let's get goin' before more come along." The minute that the woman stepped out the door, more gunshots echoed through the air and her body immediately tipped to the side, blood spraying out one side of her head. Jamie backtracked deeper into the store again, all blood draining from her face. Someone had killed that woman._

_Someone who wasn't a walker._

_A_ person _had just killed in cold blood._

_She could hear the whooping and hollering of men, celebrating their kill. The gun. they must have been after the gun that she was carrying; that's what everyone wanted these days._

"Jamie."

Jerking awake, feet kicking out and hands flying toward the body that loomed over her, Jamie felt her skin was slick with sweat and the hands at her shoulders were cold against her flesh. Trying to focus against the darkness of night, she could barely make out that it was Rick leaning over her, holding her arms when she had almost cracked him across the face in her flailing. Gasping for air, she shuffled upward into a sitting as Rick continued to hold onto her arms carefully, keeping a gentle hold on her.

"You were starting to shout in your sleep," Rick whispered, sitting on the edge of the bed as Jamie drew her legs up, scrubbing at her face roughly. "Want to talk about it?" he offered softly, watching as she brought her hands, curled together as though her fingers were cold, before her lips. No longer holding onto her, Rick almost didn't know what to do, and placed a hand on her leg instead. She looked heavily distressed, but she was reigning it in.

"Just something that happened before I met you. Even before I met Morgan and Duane. I was still fresh in this world, and a woman saved me when I was cornered by walkers," her voice was low, barely audible to him even as close as he was to her. "She had a handgun with her and she offered to take me to where she was hiding out, give me something to eat."

Her words trailed off after a moment as she looked down at her clenched hands. She was still shaking and trying hard to stop, but it was difficult as the dream, the memory, replayed over and over inside of her mind. All she could see was red. Sprayed on the counter, on the walls, on the sidewalk as the older woman fell.

Rick was silent, waiting as she collected herself, but he reached out to clasp over her hands to try and still them. "She took one step out the door and someone shot her, right in the head. They were after her gun. People, living breathing people, shot another person to get their gun."

"Are these the kind of dreams you were having all winter?" Rick asked softly, leaning closer to try and make out Jamie's face through the darkness. The moon had passed over to the other side of the prison already, leaving everything in their cellblock hidden away in the dark of night. Jamie bowed her head and began running her fingers through her hair tiredly.

Taking a deep breath to steady her racing heart, the blonde pushed her hair from her face and sat up a bit straighter. "I became dependant on Daryl always being there, chasing the nightmares away," she confessed. Giving a sad smile that the man could barely see through the darkness, she looked up at the dark ceiling. "I miss him. And I hate him and I love him, and I _miss_ him."

Reaching out toward her, Rick wrapped an arm around her shoulders and drew her into a lose embrace. Resting her forehead against his shoulder, Jamie let out a trembling breath. She'd never really realized how much she'd become accustomed to having him there with her until she was left to sleep alone. Even with Rick there while Daryl wasn't, there had been no dreams, no nightmares. The first night that she was alone she remembered one of the most disturbing moments in her life after the walkers.

"I'm pathetic," she breathed out, tilting her head so that it resting against the crook of his neck. Rick turned his cheek over to rest it against the top of her head, feeling that her hair was still quite silky even though it hadn't been properly washed in a while.

"No, you're not," Rick argued calmly. "Everyone's afraid, Jamie. It's what makes us human."

"Sometimes, being human is a kick in the ass."

Rick grinned faintly, before he nudged Jamie. "Wanna come out for watch with me?"

Sighing softly as she pulled back to look him in the eyes, Jamie was aware that he knew just as well as she did that sleep would not be coming back. It was almost sunrise anyway, since Rick had told her that he was going to be taking the watch earlier to the morning. "Yea, just let me get dressed," she agreed, rubbing at her eyes to try and force any remnants of sleep away. Rick gave a curt nod before rising from her bed, the mattress barely moving before he left the room.

Stepping out of Jamie's cell, Rick stopped at the sight of Daryl sitting off to the side, at the bottom of the stairs. He'd been listening in on them the entire time, clearly having woken when Jamie began shouting just like Rick had. A troubled looked marred his features, set into a frown as he fisted and twisted his hands together. He'd wanted to be the one to go to her, be there for her. But he couldn't, because he wasn't sure whether or not she'd push him away.

Stepped over to the other man, Rick leaned against the railing without saying a word.

"Thanks for being there for her," the younger man rumbled out, not looking up at him.

"She'll come around, Daryl. You heard what she said, her love's not gone. She's just… _royally_ pissed off."

Daryl nodded his head, knowing that was the complete truth. "I miss her, too. But I'll wait as long as she wants me to; 'cause I ain't leavin' again."

Jamie stumbled a bit when she first stepped out of the bed, the cold concrete of the floor make her jump for her bag to get some socks. Expertly slipping her bra on under her shirt, Jamie pulled on her coat as well since the days were already growing colder and colder, Autumn closing in so much sooner than she wished. Combing her fingers through her hair to remove what knots she could, she pulled it into a tail at the base of her skull. Tenderly feeling the bump left from the day before, she winced at the pain that remained.

"Damn," she mumbled softly, before reaching down to strap on the holster for Daryl's knife, slipping her handgun into the back of her pants belt. Once she had her boots on, Jamie left her small room and silently met up with Rick in the anteroom of the cellblock. Maggie and Glenn would probably be glad to be relieved from the duty of watching walkers all night.

It was already quite cool inside the building, but as soon as they slipped out into the night the temperature dropped nearly entirely. Jamie shivered the second the cold air hit her skin, but she didn't stop walking as she followed after Rick to the catwalk that overlooked the courtyard. "Hey," Rick greeted in a low voice, drawing the attention of the couple to him. "Go on up to bed, we'll take it from here."

"Thank God," Maggie mumbled. "I lost feeling in my toes an hour ago."

Jamie grinned in amusement, seeing Maggie already bundled up tightly in a blanket with her coat on beneath it. "Sleep tight," she called over her shoulder as they passed, watching Maggie wave an arm over her head before she and Glenn disappeared back inside. Taking their previous positions, Jamie and Rick looked out over the darkened field silently.

It was brighter outside with the moonlight letting them take in the swarming of walkers, no longer blocked behind the bulk of the prison.

If one could ignore the stumbling bodies of walkers, it was almost peaceful. The forest was mostly dark beyond the prison, but the moonlight just barely touched the tops of the trees. If left them with a faint silvery glimmer, no autumn colour in the leaves, as it was during the day. It was still leaning toward the end of summer, so the fall season hadn't set in just yet, but she could already imagine what the colours could look like in the forest around them, all reds and oranges and yellows.

It'll have been a year since Daryl had given her a ring. Since he had properly proposed.

Her thumb began twisting her ring around her finger, the moonlight catching on the golden band. It drew Rick's attention toward it, looking at the flashy piece of jewellery. The ring rotated back into place as the blue sapphire on the top glinted in the light, seeming to glow like a soul trapped in stone.

"This wasn't how I wanted this to end up," Rick said suddenly, drawing Jamie to look over to him. His attention had left her ring to look up at the yard before them. "When we took the prison, I was only thinking of the advantages. I didn't realize what could happen if people realized we'd taken the prison, taken such a stronghold."

Jamie reached over to take the hand that wasn't holding his gun, the digits on both of their hands already chilled in the night air. "No one could have known it would happen, Rick. Merle, the Governor, Woodbury. We had no chance of knowing that it would happen, no time to expect it or prepare." Huffing a sarcastic laugh, Jamie looked out into the distant dark again. "Hell, I was there, remember? Merle popped out of the background like a damn jack-in-the-box."

"I should have been more prepared," Rick pressed. "A prison? Somewhere as fortified as this? How many times must people have passed here, or overlooked it? How many times must people have tried to take this place over? There were civilians in the yard, we saw that. Why didn't any of us think that it could have been people trying to overtake the prison?"

His hand tightened on hers as he looked to the ground, already feeling the hate for his actions burning him from the inside. "What's it gunna change now?" Jamie asked, leaning her head back against the fence. "The Governor's on our doorstep, beating down the fences we thought would protect us, with an army at his back. I, for one, refuse to let him take another inch into our territory."

Rick looked over to her at that, blue eyes focusing intently on her face. "Our territory?"

Hazel eyes narrowed, still looking out into the darkness of the night. "This prison, cold, damp and moldy, it's our home. We defend our home. This is where my family lives, the people that I love and protect with everything that I have."

Nodding along, Rick found himself smiling ever so slightly at her words. She was right, even with all its faults; this prison was the home that they had claimed for themselves. "Would you leave it behind? If leaving meant keeping everyone safe, would you?"

"In a heartbeat," she confessed. "I don't want to fight, but don't doubt for a second that I wouldn't." Pausing for a moment, she rolled her head along the fence a moment to look at him, meeting those soft blue eyes. It was nice to see that he was returning to his kinder state, not like the way he had been when he reached the end of his temper.

"You really do hate the fighting, don't you?" Rick asked after a hesitant moment. "And I don't mean just the guns and the death, I mean verbally. I've seen how you got with Andrea, Lori. Even Daryl. You yell but you always look sick with yourself whenever you do it."

"When I was growing up, I never heard my parents fight. And when I got older, and my mother got sick, I only ever heard them cry. I hated the sounds, when my mom would come back from the doctor's and she and my father would disappear into their room and just _cry_. They thought they were protecting me, so I never said anything. But…I cried along with them, every time. If I could have done something, I would have. If…fighting would have fixed it I would have fought as hard as I could."

Rick squeezed her hand as tight as he could, knowing that kind of pain. As a parent, all he ever wanted was to make sure that Carl was never afraid, never in pain. As a husband, he wanted to make sure his wife was never sad, or alone. He would have done everything for his family, he still would. Only _now_ , he had a bigger family.

"And the people of Woodbury? Some can be considered innocent." The question wasn't meant to make her feel bad, or that she was doing something wrong, but to test if she could kill someone when the time came. If someone from Woodbury drew on her, or someone in her family, could she really defend them by taking that person's life?

Closing her eyes and breathing in deeply, Jamie leaned her head against the cold fence with the warmth of Rick's palm against hers. "To hold on to those that we love, We _must_ fight. To fight, we must make our own sacrifices. But, it's worth it, isn't it? To keep our loved ones safe, and living? No force on this _Earth_ , be it living or dead, can take my family from me."

Rick looked into those hazel eyes, pools of gold that could transform with every emotion within her, and knew that she would do it.

He'd seen her when Thomas tried to kill him, when Andrew had reacted and lunged for them. He'd seen the cold that took Jamie over whenever someone she loved or protected was put in the path of danger. It was…terrifying, to watch that come over her, but reassuring all at once. He could imagine that it was like what she had seen when he killed Shane, brutal but necessary.

He remembered people telling him about Merle and Daryl from before he arrived, before Merle had been lost, and Jamie returned. They had told him about how brutal the bothers were, but Rick believed that Jamie would be able to take it a step further. Merle had been the most vicious thing that Daryl had seen in this world, but Jamie had travelled alone and was exposed to the world's evils long before them.

Daryl would kill someone that tried to kill Jamie or one of the others—that much he knew. But Jamie held a second nature in her, a monster that crept along her insides like a malicious poison, a venom to kill. He wondered how often that poison rose to the surface, blackened her eyes and chilled her blood. Were those the moments that she dreamt of?

As she looked out through the fence again, to the field of the dead, Rick felt a shiver slither down his back.


	18. Take This Poison, Drink it Deep

As the sun cut over the horizon in the far distance, barely bringing light to Rick's eyes as he looked over the forest, the ex-Sheriff blearily blinked against the morning dew. The yard was silent aside from the clusters of rasping walkers, those that had gotten within the prison yard having calmed and quieted after they hadn't seen any humans or flesh for a good while. Looking down to his left, Jamie was sleeping next to him with her head partially resting on his shoulder, her chin on her own shoulder.

She had fallen asleep only an hour before the sun cut through the sky, but Rick hadn't had the heart to wake her. No nightmares appeared to have plagued her through that hour, and he was just relieved that she was getting some more sleep before they went out for the day. Most of the day was going to be spent in the car, but there were always risks when going out into the world now.

Reaching over to take her arm, Rick shook her gently only once. It was all that needed to be done as her head shot up with sleepy hazel eyes, hurriedly trying to blink the sleep away.

"Rise and shine," Rick softly teased, watching the dishevelled woman.

Jamie gave a full bodied shiver against the morning chill, clutching her jacket closer to her body as Rick received a bit too much amusement from her reactions upon waking. "Now _I_ can't feel my toes," she murmured, recalling Maggie's words from a couple of hours before. "How long was I asleep?" she asked a moment later, only beginning to realize that morning had dawned.

"Don't worry, you didn't miss anything," Rick assured before he stretched his legs out before him, the cold cement below his legs sending a chill through him as well. "We should go get Michonne and Carl up. I want to leave before we lose too much of the morning."

Hefting herself up to her feet, Jamie stretched out completely with her arms over her head, rising up onto the tips of her toes. Her back cracked from being in a sitting position for so long, the tension in her shoulders easing away from the pull of the muscles. Flattening her feet down again, the blonde turned around and offered her hand to Rick, grasping his cold fingers in her equally chilled digits.

"You never told me where we were going," she pointed out as she helped up to his feet, before they turned in unison to return to the cellblock.

"My home town, where we met," he answered easily, tucking in hands in his coat pockets to try and warm them up a bit more. Jamie looked mildly surprised before she smiled, remembering when they had first met. Then she started to snicker openly, causing Rick to frown at her a moment later. "What?" he asked with a smile of his own, keeping his voice down. Most people were still sleeping right now, and the halls and rooms of the prison echoed loudly enough that everyone would hear them.

Jamie shook her head in mirth, not saying what was on her mind before she walked through the anteroom and made for Michonne's cell. The woman was curled on her side, bundled under the simple prison blanket. Her sword hung off of the pole of the top bunk, always within reach. Not wanting to get too close to the woman, who tended to be rather jumpy, Jamie just nudged her leg carefully until Michonne opened her eyes.

All she had to do was jerk a hand back over her shoulder, telling her silently that it was time to go. Since the three of them had been approached the night before, they were all fully aware that they would be heading out early that day and had packed up some things before going to bed. Michonne was much like Jamie had been, already wearing most of her outfit for the day when she tossed the blanket off.

Leaving the cell to give the black woman some privacy, Jamie returned to her own cell and snatched her simple bag that had some food for the road and a bottle of refilled water in it. Simple, but enough for the trip out. Carl was already following his father out of his cell, rubbing at his eyes tiredly with his bag over his shoulder and Rick's hat in the other hand.

Jamie smiled in greeting to the boy, wrapping an arm around his shoulders when he got close enough. She had learned a while back that Carl was not an early riser and often was like a walker when he first woke up, just stumbling around almost blindly. She, however, had always been much the same—especially since she didn't have coffee like everyone else to wake her up.

As they waited for Michonne to join them, Jamie turned her focus to where she heard someone at the stairs, her expression tightening upon seeing Daryl making his way down the steps, crossbow slung over his shoulder. He looked at her as he descended the stairs, but wisely said nothing. Jamie patted Carl on the shoulder when he yawned rather loudly before starting to lead him out to the anteroom of the cellblock. Rick had a short, whispered conversation before he and Daryl followed after, Michonne bringing up the rear.

Outside, they didn't have to worry about speaking as low, but no one had much to say so early in the morning anyway. Daryl gave them a brief good luck as they piled into the car, Michonne at the wheel with Rick beside her, Jamie and Carl taking the back. Jamie had a moment of panic when first seeing him that perhaps Rick had asked him to come along, too, but he was only opening the gate for them before locking it after their departure.

Daryl looked in at her through the window, but she was turned away from him. Sighing inaudibly, his breath fogged in front of him as he pulled the chains of the fence free to let them out.

Leaning back in her seat and crossing her arms, Jamie rested her head back against the seat as she looked out the window beside her, watching the trees pass by in blurs of green and brown. Every now and then a sign would fly by in a flash of metal, barely noticeable at the speeds that Michonne was driving. The only time any of them spoke was when Rick gave directions to Michonne, since he was the only one of them who really knew how to get to their destination.

The sun had barely become visible through the forest when Jamie began to doze away once more.

However, she woke regularly due to Michonne's suicidal driving style. She'd jerk awake every time the woman flew around a turn or slammed on her breaks to avoid a walker. Carl found it hilarious, as she often woke so suddenly that all of her limbs would fly out like she was afraid she was about to tip off of a chair or something.

Presently, Jamie was borderline snoring beside him, having returned to her some-what sleeping state, her arms crossed over her chest with her feet stretched out under Michonne's seat. "Didn't sleep much, did she?" Carl asked as he leaned around the passenger seat to get a better look at his dad. "Did she have a bad dream?" He had never realized how _long_ Jamie was until now, crammed into the back of the car with him.

"Yea," Rick answered with a quick glance back at the blonde.

"She and Daryl should make up; she always slept better when Daryl was there." Rick smiled at Carl's concern for the woman, knowing that he had become attached to the two of them over the winter months. Daryl had basically become the cool uncle that taught him how to hunt, so Rick was rather relieved that he found Jamie to be more the confidant that he could go to. He didn't need them both teaching his son things that would take years off of his father's life.

"What exactly is going on with the family drama there?" Michonne cut in as carefully as she could. As new to the group as she was, the woman didn't want to seem as though she was treading where she didn't belong. "I mean, you did say they were married."

"Somewhat," Rick hesitated to answer. "They were engaged before the outbreak, but we've adapted to just saying they're married. They act it, anyway. When Daryl found Merle in Woodbury, he left Jamie back with us and that was…too much. I think she's caught between hating him and just wanting to kick him and get her revenge over with."

"Is that what she's doing?" Carl asked, glancing at the blonde when she jerked in her sleep, having felt the car bump, but not waking. "Trying to get back at Daryl for leaving?"

"No," Michonne denied immediately. "She's not trying to get some kind of revenge on him. She doesn't want to get close again because there's one outcome that she's afraid will come of it. That Daryl will _leave_ _again_." Rick turned in his seat to face Michonne a bit more fully; no one had tried to explain Jamie's actions to any of them until now. "Merle's still there, and he isn't exactly being welcomed with open arms. She's afraid that Merle's gunna take off, and in doing so Daryl will too. And she'll be left behind with her heart more broken than before."

Rick glanced back at Carl, seeing that he was surprised at the rather thorough explanation as well. "Since when did you get to know our Jamie so well?" the older Grimes asked her, raising an eyebrow at her.

Michonne smirked slightly, keeping her eyes on the road as she shook her head. "I don't have to know Jamie to know her fears. It's the same fears everyone woman has after she's been abandoned by the man she loves. Call it woman's intuition."

"Isn't it mother's intuition?" Jamie asked in a sleepy voice from the backseat, drawing Carl and Rick to look at her. She was rubbing her eyes with one hand, her fingers smearing the black eyeliner that she still put on every now and then. "Wait, what are you guys talkin' about?" she asked a moment later, looking thoroughly confused. Carl and Rick shared as laugh as they shook their heads, shrugging off the question. Clearly she had only caught the tail-end of what Michonne said, and it was probably better that way.

"Have a nice nap?" Rick asked instead, turning back to sit properly in his seat. Jamie groaned as she stretched as best she could while stuck sitting in a car, one of her arms back behind Carl's head in a full reach.

"Remember when we were trying to get out of that town with Randal, and there were walkers everywhere?"

Glancing over his shoulder, Rick looked somewhat confused. "Yea, I think you permanently scared Glenn from letting you drive with him in the car again."

"Michonne's won my title of world's worst driver."

"Hey," the black woman tried to defend herself, but ended up making the argument moot when she had to swerve out of the way of a tree that had fallen on the road a while back, someone having cut it but not fully removed it. Everyone was thrown to the left, leaving Carl to slide across the backseat into Jamie before he slid back when the car was righted again.

"Case and point," Jamie concluded, pointing out the back window. Her energetic nature was beginning to return. Rick noticed, however, that it seemed somewhat forced. Before, everything came naturally with such actions but now she just seemed to try and act as though there was nothing wrong. Although, he would admit that being away from the prison did seem to help her come out of the funk that she had dropped herself into now that she wasn't near Daryl, but unable be _with_ Daryl. And if Michonne's words were correct, then he also had a reason as to why she was avoiding the man.

Thankfully, the ride dulled down as they continued on and the four of them mostly remained silent after Jamie initially woke up. She didn't fall back asleep, but played with Carl in the backseat, or pointed things out to him that the boy would otherwise have missed. She was able to spot birds that were still in the trees, their bright colour standing out against the green, or where houses were buried in the trees, appearing torn apart already.

Carl leaned toward the window, watching the scenery with fascination as Jamie spoke softly in his ear, telling him about certain animals that they were able to spot from the car.

Rick relaxed in the front seat, knowing that Carl was finding an interest in something as beautiful as nature. Of course, Jamie could be one of the best people to tell him about it—having dated Daryl, she probably knew the most about it aside from the redneck himself.

The sun was already high enough to cusp over the trees, shining down on the road as the clouds began to close in steadily. All four, however, leaned to look out the windshield when they were passing a man backpacking along the road, immediately calling out to them the second he saw their car closing in on him. Jamie reached over to place a hand on Carl's back when he leaned around Rick's seat to get a better look, before turning to watch as they passed him by.

" _Hey_!" reached them, muffled, through the car. He was able to bang against Carl's window as they were passing him, but once they were passed he could do nothing more than call to them and try to jog after the car.

Jamie turned with Carl to watch as the man fell to his knees on the pavement, watching them drive away. She felt bad just leaving him there, but they couldn't stop and pick him up. Not only were they not even headed for their camp, he was someone…new. With all that they'd been going through in the past week alone, it was hard to decide to save someone they didn't know.

Turning Carl to face forward again, Jamie met Rick's eyes over his shoulder and gave an encouraging nod. They'd done the right thing.

Thankfully, they didn't run into anyone else along the road for a while, but Jamie and Carl no longer pointed to things outside of the window. Jamie didn't quite feel that, after seeing someone get left behind as he just had, he would want to see birds in the trees anymore. Jamie felt bad that Carl had to be there to hear the man beg, but it was something that he would have to become accustomed to. They couldn't save every person that called for them, or asked them for help.

Sometimes, people would have to be left behind.

After so long of nothing, no cars or people, they finally came to a cluster of crashed cars in the middle of the roadway. A motorhome was tipped on its side, blocking most of the road, with the rest of the road blocked by other cars that the home had crashed into. Jamie made a face at the appearance of bodies lying on the road, apparently already put down or killed by a head wound since they didn't return as walkers.

Michonne wisely pulled around it, curving onto the wide patch of grass beside the crash. In doing so, she had to pull past a car that had tipped over on a man, crushing his lower half. Now a walker, the man rasped and growled as he scraped at the ground, trying to pull himself free of the car to get to them. Jamie leaned barely to see him, realizing that unless he pulled his body in half, he wasn't going anywhere.

As she was leaning for a look, the car came to a sudden halt. Looking up at Michonne, Jamie was about to speak up before she heard Michonne step harder on the gas pedal. The engine revved as the tires screamed, but the front passenger tire dipped the car as it skidded in mud. Glancing over at Carl, he was staring at Michonne with a completely unimpressed look on his face. Clearly, the boy did not like or trust Michonne as of yet. Jamie couldn't really blame him, but at the same time she knew that hitting a patch of mud could have happened to any of them.

"Want me to get out and push?" Jamie asked, sounding more sarcastic than she intended.

Everyone in the car jumped when a walker suddenly slammed into the window on Michonne's side, before another did the same at Rick's window. Looking more carefully out the dusty glass, Jamie spotted a handful of walkers surrounding them on all sides. Soon, there were walkers at every window of the car, rasping and growling as their bloodied hands tried to scratch their way inside.

Leaning to look at the disgusting walker at her window, Jamie made a face as the woman tried to bite the glass, smearing blood on the window and revealing rotten teeth and a blackened mouth. Her bottom lip was gone and her nose was concave, making her appear as more of a skull with a bit of flesh over the smoother surfaces.

"Cover your ears," Rick ordered from the front seat, glancing back at Carl more than Jamie, before he rolled the window down only a couple of inches. Jamie did as he said, the other two doing so as well, while Rick plugged the one ear that he could and cocked the hammer of his Colt Python. The ringing in their ears still occurred, but it was not nearly as bad as it could have been. Jamie knew how much worse it could have been, remembering the time in the tank in Atlanta.

The walkers were taken care of quickly after that, most down without even having to leave the car. Jamie opened her door quickly, slamming it into the walker just outside of it and knocking her back from the force. Before she had a chance to right herself, Jamie had already stabbed her knife into the woman's eye and dropped her to the ground. Turning to do the same to the one that had been at Michonne's door, Rick had killed the others on his side by the time she turned around.

Turning to look at Jamie over the roof of the car, he nodded at her to tell her that they were clear. "Tank in Atlanta," was all he said, causing Jamie to grin. He'd been thinking of the same thing that she had been and it amused her a bit more than probably made sense.

"My head hurts just thinking about that," she retorted as she made her way around the hood of the car, Michonne leaving the vehicle to follow her. "We'll just have to get some stuff under the tire. Check the cars," she continued a moment later, pointing her bloody knife to where two of the cars were smashed together, having collided head-on.

The two passengers had died upon impact, their heads smashed in and necks broken.

"What tank?" Carl asked curiously, standing behind his father while carefully avoiding the dead walkers at his feet.

"We got locked in a tank at Atlanta and there had been a soldier inside, turned into a walker which we did not realize at first. Your dad shot him in the head before either of us really thought it through," Jamie explained, reaching up to rub her middle finger of her right hand against her temple, remembering the splitting headache that that had produced.

"That's how we met Glenn," Rick continued on for her as he pulled a suitcase from one of the cars and unzipped it, popping the lid open to search through the belongings. Jamie walked a couple of yards away to grab a stick from a cluster of dead branches, probably blown down during a storm, and began breaking it into smaller pieces, the width of the tire. "When we got out of the tank, that's when we got separated. I came back with Glenn and the others, but Jamie was stuck in the city."

"That was a very wet, cold night on a lonely rooftop," Jamie said wistfully, looking up in mock nostalgia.

"This should do," Rick said, changing the subject as he shook out what looked like a blue, floral print dress. Jamie offered him the sticks, knowing that it would help to give the tire some traction. Kneeling at the tire, Rick waited until Carl joined him before he began to demonstrate what they were doing. "Put something under the car, like this, with a little gravel and sticks. It gives you traction."

Jamie moved over to stand beside Michonne's door, knowing that they'd be off again as soon as they were unstuck from the patch of mud.

"We wouldn't need it if she hadn't gotten us stuck," Carl told his father in return. Jamie glanced over to Michonne, who was a cross between annoyed and guilty as she stared forward out the front window of the car. Jamie looked over to Carl, who glanced at her as Rick was sticking the dress and sticks beneath the car's tire. She shook her head at him, telling Carl that he was being rude and it was uncalled for. Looking down at the ground in slight shame, Carl said no more.

"It was an honest mistake," Rick defended verbally, enforcing Jamie's silent disapproval.

Moving over to stand near Michonne's door, Jamie leaned against the side of the car so that she could speak with the blank woman a bit more quietly. "Don't worry about Carl, he's kind of…confused right now. He doesn't understand things like adults do," she explained to Michonne. "His mum, Lori, kept him sheltered up until we got to the prison. She wanted to keep him innocent to everything, so the Governor's made him very untrusting."

"Believe me, I'm not taking it personally," Michonne answered calmly.

" _Hey_!"

Looking up and back, Jamie flinched at the appearance of the man that had been chasing after them before, trying to stop their car. "Damn it," she muttered softly. "Let's get a move on, Rick," she called over to the man, seeing him and Carl stand up from where they'd been working on the tire, speaking quietly amongst themselves.

" _Help me! I'm begging you! Don't leave!_ "

Looking away, Jamie faced the side of the car instead. Rick tapped the door beside him, signalling Michonne. The woman immediately started the car up and carefully started forward. With only a slight bump, the car pushed over to cluster of material and sticks, freeing the car from the patch. Michonne didn't stop until she was sure that she couldn't get stuck again, leaving the others to walk to the car before they climbed in.

No one looked back at the man that had been chasing after them.

They weren't in the car for much longer, as they reached the town before much longer. Jamie was left with a deep feeling of déjà-vu, looking around the town with familiar eyes. Stopping at the corner just up the street from the police station, she let herself take in how much the town had changed in one year. The buildings that had been somewhat intact were now crumbling away, paint worn to the point of being unseen.

"Jay?"

Jumping in surprise, Jamie almost expected to look over to a clean-shaven Rick and see Duane and Morgan standing with him, waiting for her. Instead, Carl and Michonne were giving her strange looks. "Sorry," she called back, moving to join them again. Rick reached up to grasp her shoulder, offering support. He knew that she was remembering the town she they first met, he was picturing it as it had been when he was living there, with Lori and Carl as he managed the small-town police station.

Entering the station, Jamie noticed immediately that it had been ransacked since the last time they had been there. Supplies that couldn't be used, like papers and office odds and ends, littered the floor all over the front room. Entering the back of the station to get to the basement, Jamie pulled her penlight out and popped it between her teeth before she followed Rick down the stairs to the gun locker.

One small window near the top of the wall, just outside of the locker, provided enough light for them to see that it had been emptied out completely. Only emptied boxes and odd fallen bullets were scattered over the ground. Rick heaved a sigh as he rubbed the butt of his gun at the back of his head, the weight of the realization that they were too late weighing on his shoulders.

"Sorry, Rick," Jamie began, using her penlight to look around the small metal cage. Ignoring her words, Rick marched forward and kicked the wall in front of him out of anger, shaking the shelf when he did so. Carl and Michonne wandered in behind her, examining the locker.

Bending to retrieve a bullet from the ground, Michonne inspected the polished metal as she turned it over in her fingers. "Got any other police stations in town?"

"I _was_ the police here," Rick answered her, sounding angered at the entire situation. Jamie subconsciously reached over and placed a hand on his chest, trying to keep him from letting his anger out on Michonne. Cooling down, Rick relaxed slightly as he heaved a sigh. "Me and a few other guys," he finished explaining, "Ain't a big town."

"We didn't even take half the guns that were in this locker," Jamie remembered, glancing over to Rick as her let her hand lower. "Could Morgan have taken them? Come back after we left?"

"That's a lot of guns for two people," Rick countered, rubbing at his forehead as though a headache was starting to press against his skull. "There's other places to check, but it won't be as many guns as were in here-"

"We need as many guns as were in here," Michonne pointed out, not even bothering to look back at Rick as she interrupted him. Jamie glared very briefly at the woman, mostly due to the tone that she used. She sounded whimsical over it, as though all that had happened was because of Rick. She had tried to defend the woman before, tried to make her feel that she wasn't to blame for getting them stuck. To have someone blame him was not what Rick needed at the moment, and from _Michonne_ , someone they had taken in after her misdeeds, was worse.

"Sorry to inconvenience you," Jamie drawled out sarcastically. "Just let me pull an arsenal out of my-"

Rick, in a move that matched what she had done a moment before, Rick placed a hand on her side, soothing her anger and preventing her from continuing the crude statement when Carl was only three feet away from her. She had become very popular with saying 'pull this out my ass' when she was working for annoying employers on her climb through university. _Oh, the stockroom has no cream for the coffee machines? Well, just let me pull that out of my ass!_

"We did need those guns, yes. And the ammo, too. But right now, I only got a line on a couple. There're a few places out on the main streets; bars, a liquor store. Owners had a gun or two behind the counter that people didn't know about. I did—I signed the permits."

"We can only hope they're still there," Jamie sighed, snatching a rag from the floor to begin rubbing the blood from the walkers off of her knife, almost subconsciously wanting to keep the knife of Daryl's as clean as she could. That weapon kept her alive, she could at least keep the walker blood from coating the blade and causing it to rust. "People can find things that some considered perfectly hidden."

Michonne still had her back to the two of them, looking down at the empty boxes of ammo along with the odd bullet that was left on the floor. Someone had come in here and grabbed things quickly, leaving bullets and boxes scattered around messily. The black woman huffed softly and kicked a box, drawing Rick and Jamie to look at her in borderline annoyance. "Do you have a problem with that approach?" Rick demanded, causing Jamie to look back at him at the same time that Michonne did.

"No, Rick. I don't have a problem," she denied harshly.

Saying no more, Michonne held the bullet out to Rick. Carl and Jamie watched the exchange, remaining silent as Rick took the bullet and watched Michonne leave the locker in favour of returning upstairs. Rick turned the bullet over in his fingers a couple of times before tucking the bullet away in the breast pocket of his button up shirt.

Looking around the locker one last time, feeling as though they were leaving their last hope behind, the remaining three left the locker to join the newest asset to their group.


	19. See Here My Death Mask

Looking between Rick and Michonne, Jamie couldn't remain silent any longer. "Am I the only one who feels that following spray-painted arrows on the ground is a bad idea?" she posed, looking at the three people she was with. Carl had a look that had matched hers, showing the uncertainty that he felt about the graffiti that they were trekking after. They'd been doing it since they left the station, heading toward main streets.

"It's where we're headed anyway," Rick pointed out, even though he could understand the woman's nervousness. It wasn't as though they'd have just up and followed it given any other day. It seemed that someone was drawing in the desperate people, as though the arrows were supposed to be a guide to a safe haven.

Glancing at Michonne, the sword wielder gave her a subtle nod, letting her know that she agreed with her completely. "Hey, Rick, remember that bad feeling I had when we were going into Atlanta-"

"We're not going to run into a city of walkers this time, Jamie," Rick assured, sounding somewhat amused. Carl looked between the two of them, not realizing how much the two had really been through before they met the rest of the group. When Jamie had first popped up, he hadn't known what to think. He knew that the woman had saved his dad, and his father trusted her completely, but at the same time people looked at the woman with weary eyes, especially when she was with Daryl.

The others often forgot about him, the little boy in the background. They didn't realize how much Carl took in with just _watching_ them. He'd begun to pay more attention while they were on Hershel's farm, after he'd been shot and after he'd been unable to kill the walker in the mud. Now, he would hear Jamie point something out to his father, mentioning the tank or the city, and he'd realize that they had survived a lot before coming to the camp.

At the same time, however, it was more than that. Jamie was angry at Daryl, avoiding him and sticking with his father instead. Rick, in turn, was reeling from the loss of Lori and his mental breaks were driving him toward a familiar comfort, Jamie. Aside from Carl, he'd known her the longest out of everyone in the group. They just connected better than the others, aside from Daryl. Carl was glad that Daryl and his father got along so well, even though it was causing some tension now that Jamie had blocked Daryl away from both herself and Rick.

Glancing up at the two adults walking ahead of him, Michonne at his back, Carl took in the way they were walking. Almost shoulder to shoulder, they each were keeping an eye on either side of the sidewalk, making sure that all sides were surveyed so as not to be surprised. He was sure they didn't even do it consciously anymore. It was like when Jamie entered a room and instinctively headed for Daryl before she remembered and veered herself away from him, and toward Rick instead.

They knew each other's rhythms.

Reaching the end of the sidewalk, Rick motioned Jamie back with Carl and Michonne as he leaned around the corner of a red brick building, checking to see if the area was clear before they entered the main street of town. Jamie watched the man carefully, noticing immediately that something had to be off as Rick paused before stepping out into the open.

Scrunching her face in concentration, Jamie kept her gun in hand—aimed for the ground—and followed after him. Passing the wall of red brick, the street came into view and the woman felt her jaw slacken a moment before she caught it. Behind her, Carl and Michonne drew their own weapons as they all made their way forward.

The entire street was filled, wall to wall, with traps. Wooden spikes, stakes, barbed wire, cans hanging on cords and wooden skids to make up walls and dividers. Anything without a thought process that tried to pass through that street wasn't going to be getting very far, mostly because anywhere that could be passible was bordered by those long wooden spikes, sharp enough to easily impale someone.

"What is it?" Michonne mumbled, not entirely asking the others but still hoping that one of them could possible answer.

"I don't know," Rick said at the same time that Jamie blurted out, "Looks like a carnival maze of death."

Across the crosswalk of the street, painted in bright orange, was one simple sentence. _TURN AROUND AND LIVE._ Jamie glared down at the writing before looking up to scan the area. "Look, this thing's got a warning system and a defence system," she pointed out, motioning to the only entrance around the spikes. It had a cord, waist high, with cans and other metal trinkets hanging at the ends. "Pull the cords and those things sound the alarm."

"Then don't pull the cord," Rick told her, looking a bit dazed at the sight. Someone had been very busy in the year that he had been gone.

Not taking the smart-ass comment to heart, but knowing that it was completely sound advice, Jamie began to follow Rick into the maze as she looked around. Old furniture, doors, sports equipment, cleaning equipment—someone had literally used everything that they could find to make roadblocks, weapons and defences for this street and this street alone. The rest of the town look thoroughly deserted, but this one stretch of road was…demolished.

"Not entirely smart," she mumbled as she read a sheet that had _JUST LISTEN_ spray painted on it, reinforcing the first warning on the pavement. "To bring this much attention. Some people would take it more as a challenge than a warning."

"What do you mean?" Carl asked, keeping his voice low. It was almost instinctual, seeing how dangerous the surrounding area was, to keep as quiet as he could.

Glancing down at the boy, Jamie didn't look relaxed in the least. Speaking low, she explained. "Someone puts this much effort to keep people away…makes me think they've got something worth protecting." Carl opened in mouth in a silent 'oh' of understanding, nodding his head to her. Jamie was tense and alert, looking over the street with a critical eye as Rick did the same just ahead of her. The entire thing just set her on edge.

Set them all on edge.

"It looks like someone's already made this place theirs," Michonne pointed out to Rick as they each ducked under the cord that could sound their presence, careful not to even shake the damn thing a tiny bit.

"Doesn't mean they found what we're looking for," Rick pointed out easily, but didn't take his eyes away from the stretch before them. "Couple of the places are just up ahead; let's get in and get the hell out of here." Jamie followed his line of sight to where a bird was stuck in a cage, surrounded by spikes. Bait. Someone had actually set out bait to draw in walkers and catch them.

"Which one's the closest?" Jamie asked, not knowing the area even though she'd stayed there for a short while with Duane and Morgan. The older man hadn't really wanted her to leave the house much, and when she had it was usually during the night hours when it was dark and easier to slip by walkers so long as she was silent and didn't smell of blood.

Using the gun in his hand, Rick pointed to the nearest of the bars he had brought up. "There, Tyrell's. A shotgun and two handguns, licence issued to Tyrell Debbs-"

Carl tapped his father's arm before he could continue, drawing the man's attention back to where Carl had turned to look. Jamie and Michonne did so as well, spotting the female walker that was stumbling along after them with clumsy footing. Jamie pursed her lips, wondering whether they should go and take her out or not. It was only one walker, so they could easily stab her in the head and save the ammo. Michonne had the same idea and moved to take care of her, beginning to remove her sword from the sheath on her back, but Rick called her to a stop.

"Wait." Michonne looked back at him, surprised that he wasn't letting her go. "She'll get caught," he pointed out, still watching.

Just as expected, she walked straight into the wire that they had ducked under a minute before. As Jamie had explained, metal jingled the second she touched it, sounding her appearance, before a gunshot echoed through the street and the woman's head exploded out the back with a shower of blood. Jamie immediately took a step to her right to stand in front of Carl, taking instant notice to the direction the shot originated from, behind her.

Rick took short steps forward before he stilled, Jamie turned around with Carl still shielded behind her as she sought out the location of the shooter. Standing on top of a two story, white building was a man with a rifle and a mask over his face. " _Hands_!" he shouted, muffled through the mask but still legible.

All four lifted their hands, Rick's eyes darting between Jamie and Carl, Michonne a yard to Jamie's other side.

" _Now you drop what you got, and you go_ ," the man ordered, not taking the gun off of them. They remained with their hands above their heads, none of them quite daring to put their weapons down. They didn't even have any assurance that the man would let them live after they'd surrendered what they had. " _Your guns, your shoes, and that sword_!"

Even in the present situation, Jamie couldn't help but to frown and wonder. _Shoes_? He wanted their _shoes_? She was fairly certain he wasn't going to fit into a woman's size eight.

" _All of it, ten seconds_!"

"Run for the car, now," Rick ordered Carl, shifting his body weight as he prepared to move. Carl glanced up at his father from where he was mostly safe behind Jamie. She wasn't exactly the thickest person, so she only blocked the majority of him, keeping him as much out of sight as she could.

"Dad-" Carl started to protest, speaking at the same time as Michonne brought attention to needing the rifle that the man was using to threaten them with. Above them, the man was still counting down from ten, causing them all to fidget. Jamie wanted to look back at Rick, try and figure out what he was thinking, what he was planning, but she was a couple of paces in front of him and turning her head might set off the shooter and end her for good.

"I think I can get up there," Michonne said quietly, trying not to drawn attention to the fact that she was saying anything.

" _Seven_!"

Rick was silent behind her for one second, giving the man the chance to count down to six before he spoke to Carl in a steady tone. "Carl, go," he ordered, before he turned to aim the gun still in his hand at the man and fire, Carl ducking from behind Jamie to his father, where Rick pushed him encouragingly away from the scene. Jamie immediately dove behind the empty oil drum in front of her, crunching herself down as low as possible to stay out of sight.

The man on the roof opened fire the second they moved, but Rick was able to buy them enough time with his shots to let Michonne and Carl get off the street, leaving Rick and Jamie to hide from the onslaught of gunfire from above.

Cocking her gun, Jamie crouched behind the drum and tried to find where Rick had gone, but the man fired at her and forced her to duck back out of view before he could hit her. Ducking from one side to the other, she aimed and fired before he had time to relocate the rifle on her person, but only succeeded in chipping off a chunk of stone at his feet. However, he stumbled back a step and gave her an opening to run from behind the small drum to somewhere more secure.

On her way past the fender of a truck, however, Rick grabbed her belt and hauled her down beside him as the man began firing again, having recovered from Jamie's miss. Just as Jamie was out of harm's way, the shooting stopped. Exchanging looks, the two behind the truck both prepared their guns before the mouthed 'one, two three' together, rising above the hood of the truck on 'three', aiming for the roof.

But the man was gone.

"Damn it," Jamie cursed faintly, looking around the street instead. On the roof to the building beside the one he had been standing on, Michonne appeared with her sword drawn, looking just as baffled as they did. While he was still focused on looking up, Jamie turned her attention to the buildings around them. "Move!" she hissed, grabbed a hold of Rick's shirt and hauling him away from the truck moments before it was showered with bullets. The only thing close enough was a set of oil drums strung together, barely enough for the both of them to hide behind.

"Stay here," Rick ordered before he rushed to the next cluster of barrels, leaving Jamie to shuffle around the ones that she was behind in order to stay opposite the man, who was approaching up the street as he held them down with continued fire. However, now that they were divided he couldn't focus on one place and turning his attention from one to the other left him open.

Rick timed the shots carefully, waiting for the man to turn his attention to the barrels that Jamie was crouched behind before he sprang up, gun ready, only for Carl to fire first. Having stepped from between two of the buildings, the man had no clue that Carl was there until the boy had shot him in the chest, dropping him with a short cry of pain.

Jamie sprang up from her hiding place, eyes wide, as she realized what had happened. Michonne, less than a second after, rushed from the building she had been standing on with her sword ready. It seemed that Carl had beat them all to the punch. Heaving a sigh of relief, Jamie circled the barrels to join the others crowding around the man on the ground.

Rick was staring at his son, trying to figure out what Carl could be feeling. He'd never had to shoot someone before. "You okay?" he asked carefully, while Jamie kneeled beside the man on the pavement. Upon inspecting his chest, however, there proved to be no blood. Reaching out, she palmed where the diaphragm would be and met hard resistance.

"Yea," Carl answered from above her head, but she wasn't entirely paying attention.

"I told you to run for the car! I didn't want you to have to do that-"

"I had to," Carl insisted, trying to prove to his father that he was okay with what he had done. That he was assured he had done the right thing.

"Don't worry," Jamie interrupted to draw their attention down to her. "He ain't dead," she explained before knocking on his chest, sounding like she had just banged her fist on a hollow wall. "He's wearing Kevlar."

Pulling the man's plaid shirt up proved the truth, revealed that he had strapped on dark body armor over a white shirt. Carl's bullet was visible in the armor, on the man's left ribs. That was going to hurt something fierce when he woke up, that was for sure. Rick knelt down on the man's other side and pulled the Velcro strap free before lifting the man's shirt to revel dark skin with an even darker bruise forming.

"He's definitely alive," he seconded.

"Do we care?" Michonne borderline mocked. As soon as Rick had confirmed the man's continued existence, Carl aimed his gun steadily on the man with a serious expression falling over his features. Jamie moved up to the man's mask as Rick righted his shirt, reaching back behind his head to where the mask was strapped on.

"Wonder where he got this stuff," she mused, pulling at the black mask. Once it was free, she pulled it down and off, revealing the man beneath it. With a gasp, the blonde jerked back and dropped the mask onto the pavement, nearly tumbling back onto her butt in the process. Rick, more calmly than she had, leaned forward to get a better look, as though he was worried that his eyes would be deceiving him.

"Yea," Rick mumbled in answer to Michonne's question, looking up to where Jamie was hunched back away from the man, her wide hazel eyes staring down at him. Her hands were over her mouth as she was left wrapped in her shock, trying to absorb the fact that Morgan was lying on the pavement in front of her, nearly killed by Carl.

"Oh my God, Duane!" she shouted suddenly, nearly lunging over the man to try and get to the buildings. Rick rushed after her, catching her before she could get too far. "He could be here! Rick!"

"Don't get too hasty," Rick cautioned before motioning for her to look around them. "This entire place could be booby trapped, we can't take the chances." Jamie looked frustrated at his words, frowning at him and trying to pull her arm free. Instead of getting away, Rick grabbed her other arm and kept her where she was, facing him. "If he's here, we'll find him, Jamie. But we need to be careful. Don't just go rushin' in."

Inspecting Rick's face, Jamie could see that he was concerned as well, both for the man that had attacked them and the son that had once travelled with him.

Finally nodding her head in agreement, Rick nodded in turn before he released her arms. Instead of just letting her go, however, wrapped one arm around her shoulders and guided her back over to where Michonne and Carl were standing over the man with uncertain expressions. They didn't know Morgan as Rick and Jamie did, their first impression being absolutely lacking in every sense.

"You know him?" Michonne asked first, pointing down at Morgan with her sword. Jamie frowned at the action, not liking the unsheathed weapon so close to the man she had lived with for a while.

"I travelled with him for a while; it's because of Morgan that I met Rick," Jamie answered first, moving to crouch next to the man's head with a sorrowful expression on her face. "He wasn't like this before," she continued in a softer tone. "He just used to hide away, him and his son, trying to keep themselves invisible to the threat outside their door."

Rick nodded along slowly, watching Jamie carefully. She had been closer to Morgan, and Duane, than he had been. She travelled with them, living with them. She _knew_ them.

"We'll find out what happened, Jamie, I promise," Rick assured as he reached down to grasp her shoulder, relieved when she responded and reached up to grasp his hand in return. "We need to get him off the street, though. Too open out here, too dangerous."

Jamie and Carl worked to get Morgan off the ground and onto a nearby gurney, at least taking him off of the harsh pavement. Jamie did most of the work, heaving the larger person's weight onto her shoulders while Carl made sure that the gurney didn't go rolling away from her. Rick and Michonne moved to inspect the door that Morgan had come from, where there was an array of bamboo sticks with knifes roped to the end of them.

He'd definitely gotten more creative since they'd last seen him around.

Rick went first, stepping carefully to make sure that he didn't encounter any form of trip wire, crouching beneath the threat of the knives and pikes that were surrounding the entranceway. At the threshold of the door a welcome mat sat, Rick stopping just shy of it before he moved to continue. "Don't," Michonne snapped from behind him, causing Rick to flinch but thankfully stop and look back at her. "You said booby traps," she explained when he looked at her for a reason to stop him.

Frowning as he realized her point, Rick turned back to the mat and carefully lifted one end of it up. Beneath the mat was a hole that had been beaten and drilled into the sidewalk, where a scattering of knives were pointing upward to impale the foot of whoever was unlucky enough to step on it. Suddenly feeling a lot less safe, Rick slowly moved the mat. "Thank you," he said gratefully.

"Let's just get him inside and go," Michonne grumbled from behind him before she turned to rejoin Jamie and Carl beside Morgan's prone form.

Rick and Jamie took Morgan's weight between them, carefully pulling the man through the pikes of bamboo and knifes, over the apparently not-so-welcoming welcome mat, and to the stairs that led to the apartment above the store. Jamie struggled a bit more than Rick with Morgan's weight, but she didn't want to have Michonne near him and therefore didn't complain about the task.

"He's definitely lost his manners, hasn't he?" she heaved out when they were halfway up the stairs, reading the sheet at the entrance that had been spray-painted red _NOT SHITTING YOU._ "A man that used to say grace before dinner and now this," she rasped out, hearing Rick let out a huff of a laugh on Morgan's other side.

"Different sides to every person," Rick answered, sounding slightly strained himself. Hefting him up the next couple of steps, Jamie moved to take another when Rick jerked suddenly. "Whoa!" Pausing at the urgency of his tone, the blonde looked down more carefully and spotted the tiny wire that was hovering just above the toe of her boot, ready for her to lift her foot for the next stop.

Carefully extracting her foot and returning it to the step below it, she swallowed thickly and readjusted her grip on Morgan. "Thanks," she breathed out shakily. Rick said no more and together they manoeuvred Morgan over the wire. As Rick had a better hold on him, he was the one to push the white sheet aside and free their way. Chains hung above their hands, jingling with the movement of the sheet.

"Motherfucker," Jamie nearly shouted in surprise upon coming face to face with the bloody axe that was waiting for them just beyond the curtain, causing Michonne to flinch behind her.

"Carl, watch the wire!" Rick warned his son as he and Jamie carefully manoeuvred around the axe and into the apartment. Just as the other three before him, Carl couldn't help but to pause at the sight of the axe just beyond the curtain, clearly having been used before.

Continuing into the apartment, Jamie and Rick stopped just inside of the next room. "He's definitely been busy," she heaved in shock, looking around the room. It was filled with weapons of all kinds, from guns to grenades, and she realized that Morgan could have killed them a lot more easily than he had tried when using the rifle.

"I showed him that weapon's locker last year," Rick explained to Michonne and Carl as they came up behind them, taking in the room as well.

"And it had all of this?" Michonne demanded.

Jamie scoffed, "Not even half," she answered. "Over there, there's a cot," she continued, motioning with her head to where the cot was tucked away on the far side of the room. Rick helped her with Morgan to get him over to the bed, where they tossed his down a bit less gracefully than intended. Jamie groaned and rolled her shoulders the second his weight was off of her. Michonne and Carl didn't hesitate a second to begin collecting weapons and stuffing them into an empty duffel bag.

Rick was inspecting some of the boxes around him, looking to see what Morgan might be hiding under the cot, while Jamie took the time to inspect the marked up walls. Using paint and chalk and knifes, Morgan and carved or written all over the once green walls. Amongst the babbling scrawl, the word _CLEAR_ popped up again and again, most often in bright spray paint.

"'The doorknob'," she began reading softly. "'You had the knife, you had the gun'." Frowning at the words, she spun in almost a complete circle as she took in the graffiti. "'Clear. Clear. Clear.' What's clear? What does he mean?" she mumbled, not really asking anyone. Only Rick could hear her anyway, looking up from his inspecting to see what she was talking about.

Rick moved aside to check the weapons that were in the room as Jamie continued to read the walls. _Weren't supposed to be there. Highest ground. Clear. Hardcore. Cypress._

"What happened to you, Morgan?" she mumbled softly, moving to try and get a look at the man's face. He didn't appear too different, but he was unconscious right now, so she wouldn't know what sort of expression he would be wearing if he was awake. "What happened?" she whispered to herself, before turning her back on the limp man to look over at Rick. He was kneeling before a chest of guns, but aside from the one across his lap he wasn't focusing on those anymore.

In his hands was the radio that he had given to Morgan just before they left, the one that Rick had told him to listen to every morning at dawn. More than once Jamie had risen with Daryl, with the sun, and found Rick off on a hill or roof speaking into the radio. She wasn't sure that she'd have been able to do it, as he had. To go every day without a response…

It would tear her apart.

Rick, however, appeared just as broken up as he rested his forehead on the device, trying to process everything that had happened in such a short amount of time. This was not what he had been preparing for when returning to his home town. Of all the painful memories that could have resurfaced, meeting and leaving Morgan and Duane was not what he had been expecting.

A hand fell on his shoulder suddenly, and Rick looked up even though he knew that it would be Jamie. However, her attention wasn't on him. A broken expression was on her face and Rick was fully expecting to see her start to cry, staring at the wall in front of him. Lowering the radio, Rick looked up from the weapon's chest to see what had causing Jamie's sorrowful reaction.

Rising to his feet sharply, Jamie's hand never left his shoulder.

_DUANE TURNED._

Painted across the wall in bright red spray paint, it was like they were staring at words of blood. Jamie's hand was trembling where it held his shoulder and Rick turned to face her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and drawing her in. She had doted on Duane like he was her own, and he knew that she had always prayed for him to survive in that horrible world.

"No," Rick said suddenly, keeping Jamie in his embrace as he looked over to Carl and Michonne. The two straightened up in surprise, both at the way the two were acting and Rick's sudden decision. "We're gunna wait for him to wake up. Make sure he's okay."

"He tried to kill us," Michonne reminded in a strict tone, not exactly happy about the new turn of events. Jamie pulled away from Rick as he defended his old friend, giving her a chance to collect herself. Rubbing below her eyes, the blonde pushed away the urge to cry as her throat tightened. "He tried to kill us and we didn't leave him for the walkers. He's had a good day-"

"His son's dead," Jamie interrupted Michonne, pointing to the paint on the wall. "We wait until he wakes up!" Rick reached for her again, taking the hand pointing to the wall and shushing her calmly, not wanting her shouting to draw anymore unwanted attention. Michonne straightened in surprise to the woman's anger, realizing that there was a lot more to that story than they'd told them already.

"We're waiting for him to wake up, that's it," Rick finalized, turning Jamie to look away from Michonne and rubbing her back soothingly. He could just barely see her tattoo wings over the back of the shirt she was wearing and it reminded him painfully of that first night that he had spent with the three of them.

" _We call her Angel sometimes, she doesn't like it though."_

" _Why not?"_

" _My boyfriend used to call me Angel. I…I don't know where he is."_

"… _I'm looking for the people I love, too."_


	20. The Good, the Bad, and the Weak

It hadn't been long since Carl and Michonne had left to get a crib from down the road, leaving Jamie and Rick with the unconscious friend from their pasts. Rick had wanted Jamie to go with Carl, knowing that he could trust her and that she would keep Carl safe, but he also knew that there was no chance in the woman relenting in her decision to be there for Morgan. Instead, as Rick inspected the rest of the walls, she stood in front of that one wall. In front of that one message.

_DUANE TURNED._

Rick gave an inaudible sigh and approached the silent woman, his footfalls on the hardwood her only warning before an arm came over her shoulders in comfort. She didn't look at him, but continued to stare at the words in bright red, almost as though she was challenging them to be true. Being completely honest, Jamie was in denial.

And Rick, for all that he wanted to do for her, had no clue how to sooth the woman that was struggling internally. She was trying to hide it, but the fact that she had been so quiet and withdrawn was all that he needed to see. He remembered the day that they left Morgan and Duane for the city, when Jamie had gone to Duane and tell him that she was leaving. She had held that boy so close, so tight, that Rick knew she was in agony knowing he was dead.

"I keep thinking that I should have stayed," Jamie finally whispered, breaking the silence in the apartment. Rick didn't speak, didn't even look at her, but kept his eyes trained on the message just as carefully as she did. "I keep thinking that if I had stayed, Duane would be okay and Morgan wouldn't…he wouldn't have become like _this_." Biting her lip as her eyes burned, she refused to cry again. "But then there's Daryl, who I'd never have found and yet here I am, pushing him away."

Her hands came up to her face, scrubbing almost viciously, before they pushed back into her pulled hair, mussing the tail that it was in. "Jamie, stop," Rick scolded, taking her hands and forcing her to stop. Her cheeks were reddened from being scrubbed and scratched, here hair falling from its tie. "You didn't do anything wrong when you left, Jamie. This world is full of risks now, you couldn't have known that Duane would-" Rick couldn't finish, knowing that saying it aloud would only cause her more pain.

"I was selfish," she snapped, not angry at Rick but herself. "I should have stayed with them! They didn't know how to protect themselves, but I knew that Daryl was capable. I knew that he would be alive and safe, but leaving them on their own I was condemning them!"

"Stop it!" Rick shouted back at her, taking hold of her arms and shaking her. Her hazel eyes went wide as her body was jolted with the action, staring up at Rick with shock that he had shaken her so harshly. "Think of everything that you've done since you left Morgan and Duane, think of all the times you've protected Daryl, or my family, or the rest of the group. So many things could have turned out so much _worse_ had you not been there."

Jamie tried to speak, but her throat was tight as she tried not to cry. She knew that he was right, that she couldn't have done anything, but she hated herself for that. Unable to speak, Jamie just shook her head and bowed it down, trying not to look at Rick. Taking in a huge gulp of air, it tried to come out as a sob but she smothered it, feeling Rick's hands gentle on her arms. "He was a _child_ ," she struggled out.

Rick drew her in, understanding her pain. She wasn't a mother, but she had cared for Duane like he was her family. He was the first person that she had given hope to in this world, the first person she had opened up to and allowed herself to become attached to. In a way, Duane represented the child she never had. And Rick could understand, because he knew that if he lost Carl, he'd be a wreck worse than her.

Leaning her cheek on Rick's chest, her eyes turned to stare at the message on the wall, Jamie let herself relax for the first time since she'd read that message. Even with the heat of the summer pressing in through the windows, choking them inside the apartment, she reveled in Rick's warmth. Someone to support her and offer her comfort. It was undeniable that she hated herself for turning away from Daryl at that moment.

She'd let Duane die so she could be with her love, and she wasn't even there with him now. She hadn't even acknowledged him when he came back to her, safe.

But if she got close to him again, and lost him for a second time…it would tear the remainder of her world apart.

Finally wanting to leave the message behind, Jamie moved to sit next to Morgan with a heavy sigh, resting her face in her hands. Rick kept an eye on her as he moved through the apartment, looking through all of the rooms before returning to the collection of weapons that Morgan had been creating. Pausing when he came to a rifle, he lifted the worn weapon from the case that it was in, looking over the scratched wood. It had been the rifle he gave to Morgan, the other going to Jamie.

A glance back at the other woman showed her leaning back against a stack of bins as she read the scrawl on the walls. There was a deep frown set across her features, marring them, but she wasn't crying or overly distressed. Rick could only hope that meant she was trying to wrap her mind around everything. Taking some time to sort it though.

_She hadn't intended to even go inside that building, the outside of the store telling her that it was already in decrepit condition, but she had heard voices from inside. They weren't the voices of someone looting, though, they were panicked. Approaching the busted door, she frowned upon hearing the terrified voice of a child, a young boy._

_It was shameful, but Jamie hesitated. Looking around the street of the small town, she knew that there was always the chance of running into the wrong people along the way. She had done so many times before. But there was a child, and that was something that she couldn't ignore. Pulling her knife from the holster at her thigh, the blonde woman stepped into the store silently, ducking past the shelves that had once held food and other everyday necessities that people took for granted._

_She crept along between the shelves, toward the voices that were coming from the cash near the far left of the store._

" _Duane, get behind me!" an older voice hissed before the sound of a tipping shelf drew Jamie to move faster. The rasping of a walker had her moving more carefully, spotting it through the rows of stripped shelving. It was a larger man, someone who had once been strong and sturdy. Now, he was decayed and the muscles that he once had were hanging loosely on his bones._

" _Dad!"_

" _Back, Duane!"_

_Jumping out from behind the shelf, Jamie grabbed the back of the walker's stained shirt, pulling it so that the man tipped backward as her knife plunged into the back of his softened skull. As soon as her knife was buried in the flesh, the walker's body became nothing but heavy flesh and bones, dragging her down as well as she was pulling her knife from its skull._

_The two males that had been cornered near the checkout were pressed back against the barren wall, watching cautiously as Jamie straightened up. Holding her hands up, she showed that she meant no harm as best she could, her knife—bloody and stained—was still in one hand._

" _You two a'right?" she asked calmly, stepping away from the rotting body as death wafted off of it in waves._

" _Thank you," the young boy said from behind his father, who jerked in shock and moved a hand out as though to take back what his son had said. He was watching Jamie as though she was going to kill them next, his eyes flicking over to the counter. Jamie followed his attentions and spotted the small revolver that he must have put down._

_Raising an eyebrow at him, she wondered what he would do to her if he had that gun._

" _You're welcome," she said to the small boy, offering a faint smile before moving over to the counter and retrieving the gun. The man tensed up when she picked it up and approached them, stepping more in front of his son. Jamie shook her head at him, silently telling him not to worry as she held the gun out for him to take. "You should keep that on you," she warned as he cautiously took it. "But guns draw them out, so I'd advise you learn something new."_

_Turning to leave the two, she snatched a small bag of chips that had been left abandoned on one of the shelves on her way past. She hadn't eaten yet and chips were better than nothing._

" _Wait!"_

The sound of metal falling to the ground drew Jamie's thoughts back to the present, her eyes looking over to where Morgan was lying for a moment before she glanced over to Rick. He was holding Morgan's rifle in his hands, looking through the scope to test whether or not it had been damaged. It had sounded like a bullet dropped to the ground, so she assumed that Rick must have knocked one off of something when he was retrieving the gun.

Sighing and turning to Morgan, Jamie's eyes widened as the man rolled over sharply, a knife brandished and ready to slash at her. Kicking out, she was able to push herself backward and away from the man's swipe as she swore loudly.

Rick turned sharply at the woman's curse, spotting Morgan's hand grabbing her leg to keep her from kicking him while he raised a knife to strike the fallen woman. Jamie had overbalanced over the seat she was on, leaving her stuck between two bins of supplies with one foot pressed to Morgan's leg, trying to keep him back, while the other was caught in his hold to prevent her from striking him.

"Morgan!" Rick shouted, rushing for the man.

His attention left Jamie, then, as he lunged for Rick instead. However, Rick was more prepared for the attack and used the butt of the rifle he was still holding to knock Morgan off his path, throwing him to the floor as Jamie frantically tried to pull herself out of the bins. Stepping in between the two, knowing that Jamie wouldn't want to strike out at Morgan, Rick held his hands up in a show of surrender, making sure that the way he held the gun was non-threatening.

"Do you know me?" Rick asked carefully, pronouncing his words carefully and clearly as he stood over the distressed man. He was looking between Rick and Jamie, who stood only a pace behind Rick with her knife in her hand. She didn't want to hurt Morgan, but she knew that whatever mental state he was in at the moment was dangerous for her and Rick. "Do you see who I am?"

"People wearing dead peoples' faces!" Morgan yelled back at Rick, trying to remain somewhat upright as he kept the knife in his hand. They hadn't checked the cot for weapons when they dropped him down; he must have been able to cut the wire ties that Rick bound his wrists with.

"Listen-"

"No, _I don't know you_!" Morgan nearly screamed in borderline hysterics.

"You know me!" Rick still tried to encourage, but Morgan was not listening. Jamie jumped forward and grabbed Rick's shirt as the black man before then jumped quickly to his feet, aiming to gut Rick on the way up. Tugged out of his reach, Morgan tried again, raising the knife high in an attempt to plunge it into Rick's head. Rick, having to grab his arms to stop him, dropped the rifle uselessly to the floor.

Ducking out of the way when Morgan's momentum carried Rick backward, Jamie snatched the discarded gun and checked the chamber. It wasn't loaded. Rick was able to turn Morgan with his own momentum and slam him into the wall behind them, the one that Jamie had been reading before she lost track of herself.

"You saved my life, Morgan, you know me!" Rick tried to remind the man, but Morgan continued to struggle against Rick, pushing at his arms as he continued to clutch the knife in one hand. Jamie dropped the gun and scrambled for the knife she'd discarded when grabbing Rick, barely missing when Rick was thrown past her when Morgan got the upper hand, landing a solid knee to Rick's kidney.

Forgetting her knife on the floor, Jamie dove at Morgan's back as her heart hammered in her chest. He nearly growled like a feral animal as she wrapped him in a headlock, throwing the man to his knees before he had a chance to get to Rick with the weapon that she knew would be meant for his head. "Stop it, Morgan!" she shouted in his ear, hoping to either get through to him or to disorient him.

Morgan made a sharp choking sound against the arm she had pressed into his throat, cutting off his air ways. Backtracking, he threw all of their weight back into the wall, slamming Jamie into it with enough force to dent the drywall. Crying out in pain as her back connected, she lost her breath in the next instant as Morgan repeated the action, fighting to get her off of his back. Struggling to breathe, she didn't have enough conscious thought to keep her hold on his neck and ended up releasing the chokehold.

However, it had given Rick sufficient time to get back on his feet and land a solid blow to Morgan's cheek, throwing the man to the side as Jamie dropped to the ground, rasping for air with a hand to her chest. Her eyes were wide with momentary panic, the air unable to enter her lungs. Rick reached out for her, scared for her reaction, but jerked back when Morgan tried to slice at his exposed arm in a moment of distraction.

Jamie's ears were ringing as she lost focus for a moment, her mind only set on trying to get oxygen back into her lungs. Left sitting on the floor, she was barely visible behind the bins. Air hitched into her lungs a bit more every time, the woman trying to take careful, deep breaths that refused to take. She could hear Rick and Morgan yelling in the background, but she wasn't focused on what they were saying as she pulled herself onto hands and knees, crawling over to the cot as her chest hitched with the effort to breathe.

He had hit her hard.

" _I don't know anyone anymore!"_

Looking up at Morgan's shout, the panic and rage in his voice making her heart stutter, Jamie stopped breathing entirely as she watched the knife push down to Rick's chest. Morgan was bigger than Rick, physically strong and with nothing left to lose.

" _You. Don't. Clear!_ "

Pushing off the floor on shaking legs, Jamie couldn't make a sound to call for Rick as the knife was pushed into his shoulder, the pained scream that was torn from his lips only seeming all the louder because of it. Throwing her body with every ounce of her weight and strength, Jamie barreled into Morgan's side in a full-on body check, taking him with her as they were thrown from above Rick. Her shoulder nailed him right in the ribs where he'd been shot, leaving him to shout out in restrained agony.

The knife was finally knocked from his hands as he hit the floor with Jamie, the two of them rolling from the momentum. No longer pinned, Rick forced himself to get up through the pain as he pulled his gun from the holster at his side, rising to his feet as Morgan panted in pain on the ground. "You know me," Rick repeated once more, cocking the hammer of the gun back as he aimed it at Morgan's head. "You _crazy son of a bitch_!"

Lying on her back on the floor, Jamie was finally taking in short, sharp breaths that made her cough afterword, her lungs readjusting to being inflated with air. Rolling her head to look at Morgan, she felt tears burn her eyes at the man's condition. She had known that he'd be different, what they had seen so far told them that much, but she hadn't expected him to try and kill them _again_.

"Please," Morgan begged in a hushed tone as he grabbed Rick's wrist, pulling the barrel of the gun against his forehead. Rick jerked in surprise, looking down at Morgan in shock and appall as the man looked him dead in the eye. "Please kill me!"

Jamie reached out and wrapped a hand around Rick's ankle as he stepped back, watching Morgan with a new sense of disgusted awe. Neither knew what to say to the man, who so clearly wanted them to end his life. Rick quickly grabbed Jamie and moved her away from Morgan, her feet aiding them to shuffle back toward the cot.

Morgan turned his back to them, leaned against the wall, and wept.

Shifting her eyes away from the man, Jamie looked instead to where Rick's shoulder was bleeding profusely. He had his arm tucked tight to his side, keeping it close to nurse the wound. Rick never looked away from Morgan, the shell of the man that he had first met, and let Jamie push his shirt aside to get a better look at the stab. Thankfully, the knife wasn't of the largest variety and hadn't gone through his shoulder, only nearly an inch wide gouge that still hurt like a bitch.

"Tie him up," Rick instructed in a low voice, nodding to Morgan. Jamie finally picked up her knife from the floor, kicking Morgan's away from him, and used the same wire ties that Rick had to bind his arms _behind_ him.

"Please kill me. Please kill me," Morgan chanted under his breath, looking to Jamie with such anguished eyes that she had to force herself to look away from his face, staring anywhere but those eyes. "Please," he begged, his head tipped forward until his chin met his chest. "Kill me, Jay."

"No," she hissed out as she tightened the ties around his wrists before nearly jumping away from him, not wanting to have to listen to the broken mantra anymore.

Instead, she busied herself with finding his bag of medical supplies and taking out some rubbing alcohol and bandages as Rick carefully manoeuvred from his shirt. Jamie had to stop for a moment and collect herself when her hands wouldn't stop shaking; taking a careful breath that thankfully didn't hitch in her throat, before she continued to search the bag for medical tape.

"It's alright, Jamie," he assured softly, reaching out to her shoulder with the hand of his good arm, grasping the back of her neck in a strong, sure grip. Nodding her head silently, the blonde found the tape she was searching for and immediately set to work on Rick's shoulder. Morgan continued to beg softly from behind her, Rick watching over her shoulder as the man rocked in the chair she had tied him to.

"Just kill me."

Soaking a patch of gauze in rubbing alcohol, Jamie didn't warn Rick before she pressed it over the wound with strong pressure, causing him to jerk and hiss as the alcohol burned the open wound. She kept the gauze there, counting to ten in her head as Rick's muscles jumped beneath her palm, the solution probably burning worse than the stab had. "Sorry," she hushed once she pulled the gauze away, soaked in alcohol and blood, before using another patch to clean the blood away from the wound.

Rick took deep breaths as the burning pain slowly receded, focusing instead on Jamie's warm hands as they held a patch of white over the wound, hoping to stop the bleeding. She felt at his back shoulder to be sure that the knife hadn't pierced through to the other side, leaning close in the process. Rick would see how pale she had become since Morgan had woken up, since he'd first lunged at her, and leaned forward to rest his head on hers silently.

Jamie stilled in her actions as she let Rick rest his forehead against her temple, reassuring herself that he was okay. This was the first time she'd ever actually seen someone attack Rick, not a walker, and it made her sick to realize that it had been their _friend_.

"I'm alright," he assured softly, feeling her nod her head as she steadily began working again, swapping the bloody bandage in her hand for a fresh one, thicker this time, and reached for the medical tape next. Rick as compliant with her movements as she wrapped the tape down across his chest, around his back to make sure that the bandage would be held secure, before meeting with the would again.

"That should hold," she finally mumbled, pressing down on his pectoral to make sure the tape stayed in place. "We'll have to change it when we get back, make sure that doesn't get infected. It went deep."

"Thank you," Rick responded calmly, nodding to her warning. Jamie knew that he was going to have a hell of a time removing that tape. With where the wound was, it had been a bitch to keep a bandage in place so she'd been forced to tape down his chest, meaning that taking that tape off would mean taking some of the chest hair with it.

Carefully helping him into his ruined shirt, Rick started speaking to Morgan. "You found me last year in my front yard, Morgan. You and-" Rick didn't continue, not sure whether or not it would be wise to mention Duane just yet. "You found me. You fed me, you told me what's happening. You saved me."

His shirt half on, Rick stood up as Jamie moved back from him, letting Rick approach Morgan as he pulled the rest of his shirt on himself.

"My name is Rick Grimes. Jamie's the woman who saved your life, remember? You know us." Rick stepped around to get into Morgan's view, the man having been avoiding looking at them. "We aren't wearing dead peoples' faces." Morgan tried to jerk away when Rick moved to kneel in front of him, snatching the radio that he had been holding earlier and showing it to Morgan. "I gave you this. I said I'd turn it on every day at dawn so you could find me."

Perching on the edge of the cot, Jamie watched them silently as she used a rag to clean Rick's blood off her hands.

"Rick?" Morgan asked, looking more closely at the man before him. "I know you," he continued, his voice trembling just slightly. Rick lowered the radio away, looking closely at Morgan. "Oh, man. Damn it, I-" stopping, Morgan glanced over to Jamie as she watched him cautiously, concerned for how with how close he was standing to the man. "I know you, I know who you are," Morgan continued as he turned back to Rick.

"You said you'd turn yours on a dawn, that's what you said. I mean, I hadn't worked up to it yet, and…then I did. On the roof, every morning for days. For weeks. Me and my boy. And then…me." Jamie looked away from Morgan and Rick, her head dropping until her chin touched her chest. Her heart ached. "Just static, though. Nothing but static. And then nothing, but _nothing_. You weren't there, you were never there."

"I was."

"No, not when I tried. I mean, you said you would turn on your radio, _every_ _day_ at dawn. _You said_ that you would turn on your radio-"

"I did!"

"-And you _were not there_!"

Jamie sat hunched on the bed, hands over her ears like a terrified child as Morgan and Rick's shouting overlapped each other, taking over the room and echoing in a space that should not have echoes whispers, should not carry their voices as it did. There were ghosts in those words, in the memories that they brought up and they were so painfully screaming at them.

" _ **Stop!**_ "

Rick and Morgan looked over to Jamie, both having forgotten that the woman was even there. She was hunched on the bed, tears on her cheeks with her hands clutching at her head. She was shaking again, trembling with her head jerking in a silent _no_. Rick opened his mouth, wanting to speak, but he didn't know what to say.

"He was there," she forced out, her words trembling. She didn't look at them, didn't even open her eyes, while the watched her so carefully. "He tried every damn morning but you were never there, Morgan. You never answered. And then we were too far, just too far away for you to hear." Dropping her hands and looking up at them, her eyes were beginning to redden from tears as she looked directly at Morgan. "Why did you _wait_?" she finally screamed, her voice cracking. "Why didn't you _answer_ him?"

"Why did you leave?" Morgan shouted directly back, forcing Jamie to her feet as her anger and her heartbreak warred like a flame in her chest, burning her from the inside. "Why did you  _both_ leave?"

"I had to," Rick answered for her, his voice low. " _We_ didn't have a choice," he corrected after a brief moment. "I found my wife and my boy. Jamie found Daryl, too. They were all together and we…we had to move. There were people with us and we had to keep them safe." Rick began to pace to room, approaching Jamie's still form before turning to where Morgan was tied. "We kept getting pushed back, deeper into the country. I _swear to God_ I didn't have a choice."

Rick's words only had Morgan kicking the radio to slide toward Rick, skidding on the hardwood. "You can have your radio back 'cause it looks like I finally found you!" Jamie and Rick flinched as one. "You found your loved ones; your wife and son, your boy. That's what happened, right? You _found_ them."

Neither could say anything in answer, but that as silence enough for Morgan.

"And did they…did she…did your wife, did she turn?"

Jamie's hand shot to her mouth before she could stop herself, her body turning away as she remembered. She remembered putting a bullet in Lori's head as she laid there, still and white. Just like snow. "No," Rick answered, sounding dull and tired. "She died."

Morgan opened his mouth to speak, but stopped and nodded his head instead, turning away from Rick. "So you didn't have to see that, then? Of course not, not like me." He chuckled humourlessly, causing Jamie to turn back to him. "No, not like me. Not like my wife."

Morgan looked over to Jamie again, seeing her staring at the window instead of at them.

"What about your man? Have you lost him?"

Closing her eyes and turning away from Morgan, she shook her head silently.

"Yea, big happy ending for you. But do you remember…remember when I first pointed her out to you? You were so sorry for us but I could see that you were so worried, worried your man would be the same-"

"That's enough," Rick interrupted, seeing Jamie's shoulders growing more and more tense. Daryl was a touchy enough subject as it was, he didn't need Morgan digging into those wounds without even knowing what he was doing to her.

Morgan's attention was drawing to Rick as the psychotic smile fell from his face. "Oh," he breathed out. "You gave me the gun. You tried."

Rick was silent for a moment, rolling Morgan's words over in his mind. "What did I try, Morgan?" The black man began to smile again, almost laughing as Rick approached him and knelt in front of his tied form. "What did I try?"

"You tried to get me to do it, 'cause I was supposed to do it. I was supposed to _kill_ her, my Jenny. Knew I was supposed to but…uh, I let it go," he confessed with a shrug of his shoulders. His voice as beginning to sound forced, weigh with more emotion as he continued to tell Rick what had happened. "Let it go like there's wasn't gunna be a reckoning." Pausing to look away, he turned back to Rick almost immediately. "We was always looking for food. You know, it always came down to food. And I was…I was checkin' out a cellar and I didn't want Duane to come down there with me and then, when I came up…she was standing there right in front of him. And he had his gun up and he _couldn't_ do it."

Jamie fell to sit back on the cot, her face falling into her hands as her body trembled with the need to cry.

"So I called to him, and he _turned_. And then she was just—just _on_ him. And I see red. I see red. Everything is red. Everything I see is red! And I _do_ it." Morgan choked on the words, unable to look at either of the people before him. "Finally…Finally was too late."

Rick looked down, almost in shame, seeing Jamie out of the corner of his eye, huddled back down on the cot as she covered her face.

Morgan continued, his voice so broken and weak. "I was supposed to. I was selfish. I was weak." Stopping to smile faintly, he looked to Rick. "You gave me the gun." After a moment, the smile faded and he tilted his head, appeared so curious. "Hey, your boy…is he dead?"

Rick looked pale as he answered, "No."

"No?" Morgan repeated, before he nodded his head as though to say he understood. "He will be. See, 'cause people like you, the _good_ people, they always die. And the bad people do, too. But the weak people, the people like _me_ , _we have inherited the Earth_."


	21. Weep Once For the Children

Jamie hadn't been able to stay in the apartment any longer, feeling like the walls were crumbling down on her. Since Morgan was no longer a threat, she felt better to leave Rick alone with him as she stepped outside, making sure to dismantle the axe at the stairs before leaving. As her hands tucked down in her pant pockets, Jamie stood just outside of the apartment building and looked over the street. There were walkers that had been stabbed onto the pikes all over the street and it left her to wonder how often Morgan must clean up.

For a man that had once hated dealing with the walkers, he sure as hell knew how to take them out now.

Bringing a hand up to massage at her head, which was faintly throbbing with an oncoming headache, the blonde woman sighed heavily in the air drenched with the smell of the dead. Glancing to her left as she composed herself, Jamie began a steady trek down the street, passing by all of Morgan's defences as she did so until she had left them behind.

Turning the corner, she didn't take another step further for a moment as she, instead, looked over to twenty-four-hour convenience store that sat abandoned and torn apart. She had met Morgan in that store. Kicking a hunk of brick out of her way, she stepped up to the boarded door that she knew hadn't been that way when she and Rick left. Morgan must have done that, but she didn't know whether it was before or after he lost Duane.

If it was as she felt, she assumed that he'd done it after Duane died. Just another place with too many memories.

Stepping back, Jamie couldn't bring herself to get inside. She couldn't muster up the strength to take those boards down, to look inside. "I'm sorry," she mumbled, tipping her head back as the sun warmed her skin. She could hear the wind blowing through the trees in the background, but she was masked behind the building and couldn't feel it on her body.

A harsh thump caused her to jerk in surprise and stumble back a step to get away from the store, the boarded door. A low rasp sounded through the creases in the wood, leaving Jamie's body to run cold. He'd trapped a walker in there?

Pulling her penlight out of her back pocket, the blonde quickly glanced around to make sure no walkers were near her before she knelt in front of the boards and shown the light in through the cracks. The small beam of light drew the walker's attention and small fingers curled out through the wood, dark skin marred with blood and tears where the walker had been scratching to get out. Jamie felt her throat tighten as she lifted to light to another crease, near Duane's height, and peeked in through the space.

Young, dead eyes looked back at her, bloodshot and discoloured from decay. Letting out a deep, open sob, Jamie had to drop the light as Duane continued to scratch and groan from the other side of the boards. "I'm so sorry, Duane," she whispered to the walker, placing a hand on the wood over his head, out of reach from his scratching fingers.

Tears tracked down her cheeks silently before she forced herself to pull away, wiping at those staining lines frantically. Remnants of Rick's blood smeared onto her cheeks as she did so, but she didn't even think about it as she looked around herself frantically, desperately. Quickly rushing back to the main street, she pulled a metal rod free from Morgan's traps and charged back at the boards, slamming the rod underneath them and pushing. The rod was able to act as a crowbar and pushed the boards up, nails pried from the wood frame that kept them in place.

Once the first one was weak on one side, she was able to get her fingers under the board and pull it out the remainder of the way, the other side coming with it.

Immediately, Duane began reaching out for her, rasping more frantically. Gritting her teeth, Jamie continued to remove the next board up, over his face to reveal him to her.

Decayed and rotting, the sight made her stomach twist and gave her the urge to turn away and lose her stomach contents, but she was set in her task. Ripping off board after board, she left the one across Duane's chest to stop the walker from getting to her, the lack of thought meaning that the walker didn't know that it could just duck under the board to get out.

Once that last board came free, Duane lunged.

Dodging the scrambling hands and gnashing teeth, Jamie stepped behind the small body of the boy she had once protected and grabbed his bloody shirt. His neck was torn open, staining most of the dark blue shirt that he had been wearing at the time. He must have bled out before he could truly turn by the infection. Hesitating a moment as the weak body tried to turn in her hold, disfigured face turning for her, Jamie almost let him go.

"You don't deserve this," she finally whispered, pulling her knife from the holster on her thigh and placing it at the base of Duane's skull. With one quick jerk of her arm, the knife slipped into his softened skull and the boy's body went limp in her hold. Unable to stand the sight, Jamie pulled her knife free and laid him down on the ground more gently than she had truly intended.

It wasn't really Duane anymore, she knew that, but it felt wrong to treat his body badly. She'd already had to stab him in the back of the head; she couldn't just drop him to the pavement.

Kneeling down beside the still body, the tears that had yet to stop began to fall more rapidly as Jamie put her hand to Duane's back, where she would once have felt his heartbeat. "I…I don't know if God exists, or if there's some kind of Heaven waiting for us when we die, but if it really is there I'm sure you'll be happy. You won't have to live in fear anymore. Maybe…maybe you'll meet Sophia, and you'll find your mum. Tell Sophia that her mum misses her every day, and loves her so much."

Falling to sit on the cold concrete ground, she continued to hold onto Duane's cold body as her tears moistened his cheek.

"There's a woman that you might meet, as well. Fair skin, long dark hair and such kind brown eyes. She's a mum, too. Her kids are still here, with us, but I want you to tell her that I'll keep them safe. I promised her that I'd keep her family safe, so I will. Find her, Duane, and she'll watch out for you, too." Wiping the last of her tears from her eyes, Jamie looked toward the forest at the appearance of a few strangling walkers emerging from the trees. "Find Lori, Duane. Promise me," she whispered out, before standing up and retrieving her knife from the ground.

In the upstairs apartment, Rick was relieved that Jamie had left. Morgan was clearly still unstable, and he didn't want her to hear what he was saying. Rick knew that it wouldn't take a genius to figure out why they were taking all of the guns, but to hear the way that Morgan spoke about them would have torn Jamie's already fragile state to pieces.

"You will be torn apart by teeth, or bullets. You and your boy. Your people. But _not_ me! Because I am not going to watch that happen again!" Rick didn't know what to say after Morgan's outburst, hating to admit that deep in his gut he was afraid that the man was right. That he was right about it all. Morgan took a quivering breath, looking away from Rick. "Do you know that I was glad Jamie left with you?" he asked suddenly, drawing Rick up short. "I never blamed her for what happened, because she was gone, but…I was glad that she wasn't there to see it."

Wisely, Rick didn't speak or interrupt.

"And I know that she'll leave with you and you'll take your guns to fight another battle. And I won't have to see her die. The sweet angel that took care of me, and my boy. At least I won't have to see _her_ die." Morgan looked Rick directly in the eye as he spoke, as though challenging him to deny his words.

"She won't die, Morgan," Rick countered, his voice deepened with his resolve. "I won't let her die. _Daryl_ won't let her die. But most of all, she won't let herself be weak enough to be taken." Morgan tried to look away from Rick, as though it would stop the words from coming. "She's not just one of the _good_ people, Morgan. She's one of the _strong_ people. And even if you won't help me, help us, she'll move Heaven and Earth to keep my family safe."

Nodding his head almost sadly, Morgan offered a pitying smile. "That's what's gunna do it, ain't it? That's what's going to finally take her from us, Rick. She's going to step in the way of a bullet, or a bite and die to save you or your boy. I know that she'd have done it for Duane. At the very least she'd have had enough in her to kill Jenny before she could take Duane away from me!"

A pregnant silence fell over the room as the two men stared each other down.

"I saw her, down there in the street. She stepped in front of the boy, was going to take the shot for him if she could. Didn't hesitate." Bowing his head to look wistfully at the ground, Morgan almost smiled. "She was never one to hesitate. Going out for supplies, me and Duane staying back, she would walk out that door and not once look back. I used to envy that." Lifting his head to meet Rick's gaze again, Morgan shook his head. "You've seen it, though, haven't you? She _doesn't hesitate_. Someday, she will. And that'll be the end."

Then, Morgan huffed a laugh.

"The weak have inherited the Earth. But the strong will _rise above it_."

Rick rose to his full height, jaw clenched and eyes set on the man still sitting on the ground. Even after cutting the binds Jamie had put him in, Morgan hadn't gotten up. It was as though there was no strength left in him. But he finally stood up, turning his back on Rick and the expression that he wore, and moved for the uncovered window that overlooked the street he had transformed.

"You know there's a chance that won't happen, Morgan. You know there's a chance that we'll live, that we'll win, and that's what you can't square. Knowing, _that_ is what hurts," Rick shouted after him, but didn't follow. "You _know_ there's a chance!"

"I don't think you heard a damn word that I said!" Morgan retaliated, even louder.

Swallowing thickly, Rick glanced away from Morgan for only a moment as he tried to think of a way to get through to the man. "We both started out in the same place; things went bad for you, things went bad for me…but you're not seeing things right. I don't blame you, what you've lose, what you've been through." Approaching Morgan as he spoke, the other man turned to face Rick with a weary look, not sure what he was going to do. Neither of them were sure anymore. Finally, Rick stood right in front of Morgan. "You're not seeing things right, but you can come back from this. I know you can—you have to. This can't be it. It can't be."

"No," Morgan mumbled.

"Morgan, plea-"

"No!" he interrupted, his voice rising to cut Rick off entirely. "I have to clear; that's why I didn't die today. That's the sign. I have to, man. I have to." Pausing, Morgan offered an almost peaceful smile as he opened his arms, as though trying to show Rick that that was all he had. "I have to clear."

At last, Rick gave in.

He collected the bags of guns that Michonne and Carl had been packing up, and left the apartment. It didn't seem right for the day outside to be sunny, to have a feeling of warmth on the skin when he felt as though he had just been crushed, abandoned. Jamie was nowhere to be seen, but Rick wasn't too concerned for the woman. His words to Morgan were true—she wouldn't let the world take her.

She just needed time to herself, to say goodbye to the little boy that she had lost without knowing.

Carl and Michonne weren't back, either. Truthfully, he hadn't noticed while he was with Morgan just how long the two were gone, but now that he was aware of the time that had passed, it was beginning to weigh on him a bit more. He knew that Michonne had done enough for him to trust her, but he was well aware that she was still someone new and he had put his son's _life_ in her hands.

Carrying the bags of guns, with the use of only one arm, Rick placed them on the street to wait for the other two as Morgan silently emerged from the building as well. He didn't speak to Rick, didn't even look at him and instead began to kill and remove the walkers that had built up on the spikes while he had been inside.

Finally, Carl and Michonne appeared around the defenses, carrying a crib between them. Rick had two of the bags over his good shoulder, carrying another in his hands with his other arm left unused, hand supported on his gun belt. "Hey," he greeted when Carl was close enough. "I was just about to look for you."

"Sorry," Carl apologized immediately, not wanting to divulge to his father why it had taken them so long to get the crib and get back. For the time being, he didn't need to know about the bar they'd gone to.

"It's alright," he assured, not wanting to get into anything else for the day. "You're here now." Carl stopped just in front of his father, his eyes immediately zeroing in on the bloody patch of his shirt where Morgan had stabbed him. Having forgotten about the evidence, Rick briefly looked down as well before shaking his head. "It's nothin'," he assured, but said no more.

"Where's Jamie?" Carl asked, concern creeping into his voice. If his father was hurt, where was Jamie? Was she hurt as well? Where was she when that had happened?

"She…needed some time," Rick answered as he held the bag in his hand out to Michonne, the weight of all the weapons tugging on his injured shoulder. "She should be back soon, if not I'll go and look for her." Thanking Michonne when she took the bag, tossing it over her own arm, Rick took a quick glance around the area to make sure that he hadn't missed Jamie sitting off somewhere.

Carl didn't look satisfied with the answer. "Is she alright?"

Rick, in complete honesty, didn't know. "She was close to Morgan and his son. I think that knowing he's gone hit her a bit harder than she was prepared for," Rick explained as best he could, keeping his voice low so that Morgan, a couple of yards away, couldn't clearly hear them.

" _He's_ okay," Michonne observed while they were making their way passed Morgan, keeping a distance between themselves and the man that was piling bodies onto an old gurney.

But Rick didn't even look back as he answered. "No, he's not."

Carl, on the other hand, found that he couldn't stop himself from watching Morgan. "Wait." Michonne stopped at the boy's command, Rick finally doing so as well. "Hey!" Carl called over to Morgan, but the man didn't turn away from the task that he was working on, roping the bodies down.

"Carl-"

"Morgan!" the boy continued and ended up forgoing the unfinished warning that Rick had started. The black man looked up from his work at last, appearing surprised that Carl wanted to say anything to him. "I had to shoot you. You know I had to, right? I'm sorry." Michonne and Rick watched the exchange carefully, not knowing how Morgan would react. At first, it didn't seem that he was going to do or say anything, until he stepped around the gurney as Carl moved to leave.

"Hey, son," he called to Carl, moving closer but keeping his distance when he noticed Rick's protective look over his son's shoulder. He didn't get in too close, but dared to meet Carl's gaze directly, glaring through the bright sunlight. "Don't ever be sorry," he ordered the adolescent, seeming to want to say more but not quite able to.

With an unsure, jerky nod, Carl turned to leave again.

"Rick," Michonne said quietly when he continued to watch his once friend. Looking over to the samurai, he found that she wasn't even looking at him but toward the edge of the street, just passed Morgan's maze of traps. Jamie was walking with a quick stride, not even focused on them. Her right arm was splattered with blood and there was a good layer of sweat on her forehead and around the collar of her shirt. She'd been doing something that tired her out, but it wasn't entirely killing walkers. Not enough blood for that.

Rick wanted to call out her to, but she walked right passed him and the others, to Morgan.

Glancing up briefly when he heard someone approach, Morgan immediately stopped his work at the sight of Jamie standing next to him. With the look in her eyes, he knew.

"You can't blame yourself that you couldn't keep him safe, Morgan," she started quietly, her eyes so weary that it made Morgan's body feel like lead just to stare into them. Stepping closer and lowering her voice, she made sure her words were between them. "But it was your duty as a father to put him to his proper rest."

Rick almost thought that Morgan was going to strike Jamie, the look on his face one of absolute rage because of whatever she had said. However, the anger crumbled away as Morgan ducked his head again, hiding the tears that Rick knew were trying to surface. Jamie watched Morgan carefully, knowing that he was truly broken over what she had done. But she refused to leave Duane as he had been.

"Do your son a favor," she continued, forcing Morgan to look at her. "Bury him, mark his grave if you must, but let him have that one respect that very few get these days. Give Duane a proper burial."

Morgan began to shake his head frantically, trying to tell himself that she was wrong. That she hadn't done it. But there was no denying the look on her face, the tormented truth that he wasn't saying aloud. Backing away from her, Morgan began to mutter 'I'm sorry' over and over again. Jamie watched with pity, knowing only a fraction of his pain. Behind her, Rick frowned with uncertainty, wanting to know what she had done, what she had said.

"Leave us," Morgan begged her, barely audible even to her ears. Only taking a couple of steps away, Jamie stopped again and fished something from her pocket with her clean hand.

"Morgan," she called sharply, drawing him to look up as she tossed the shiny object to him. Catching it with a jerky movement, Morgan was left to look down at the crucifix on the thin silver chain. It had once belonged to Duane's mother, before she'd given it to him, before she'd been bitten. He'd been wearing it when he died and Morgan hadn't had the heart to touch it. "Do the right thing," she ordered solemnly.

In the middle of the street, Morgan crumpled into tears as he clutched the necklace before his lips as though he was praying.

Wordlessly, they departed.

Dropping the guns and crib into the back of the green Hyundai, the sun still high in the sky, they knew that they couldn't leave yet. "Let's check for supplies while we're here," Rick said to break the silence, slamming the hatch of the car closed. "Some of these buildings seem like they're still pretty intact."

"We need to get you back to the prison so Hershel can stitch up your arm," Jamie told Rick, using a rag to wipe at her bloody arm, her knife already clean and returned to the sheath at her thigh. It was said quietly and Rick knew that he needed to speak with her. Before they were stuck in a car for the next couple of hours. It would be dark by the time they got back, so he knew that he only had a short while to get her alone.

"I'll be fine," Rick assured. "It's clean and bandaged, that'll do for now. You and Michonne check this side of the street, Jamie and I'll get the other."

"Okay," Carl agreed immediately, glad that they were going to be doing something as productive as finding supplies for the group. The food that had been in the prison cafeteria would only last them so long and winter was going to catch up fast.

Jamie wasn't a fool—she _knew_ what Rick was doing.

Sighing faintly as she followed the ex-sheriff, she didn't feel Carl's eyes on her back as she followed after his father. Both of them seemed drained after the experience, but there was something that had happened to Jamie after she'd left. Going to clear her head hadn't gone near as well as she had been hoping. Biting his lip, Carl knew that his father would take care of her and moved after Michonne to start on their buildings.

The first place that Jamie and Rick entered was an old family restaurant underneath some apartments, the smell of rotten food almost driving them out. Rick watched the blonde carefully as she picked through cabinets and cupboards quickly, her shirt pulled up over her nose to mask the smell. Filling some bags with some spices and treats that they were able to find in the back of a supply cabinet, they moved up the stairs to the apartment.

Jamie and Rick had to throw their combined bodyweight into the door to bust it open and both nearly ran back out by the heavy smell of death that hung in the air. On the floor was a rotted corpse that had its brains hanging off the couch behind it, the handgun still in its skeletal fingers. Jamie gagged as she pulled the gun free, tossing that into another bag as Rick started in the kitchen.

Rick didn't miss when she pulled a thin blanket from the back of the couch to drape over the dead man's body, covering him up. He wasn't sure whether it was out of respect of because the sight was making her ill, but it wasn't something that he had seen her do before. Glancing up after she did so, Jamie halted when she spotted Rick standing right across the room from her, watching her.

"It was Duane," she finally said, breaking the thick silence. Rick's brown drew down in a frown, unsure of how he was supposed to take those words. "I found him," she elaborated. He didn't need any more of an explanation as his lips parted in surprise, wanting to say something but unable to think of any way to help someone after that.

But Jamie shook her head and smiled sadly.

"I killed him."

"No," Rick said immediately, his voice thick with emotion. He was almost glaring at her, hating that she thought that. "You saved him."

"I put my knife through his skull, Rick. I know that I was taking him away from that way of…being, but I still did it!" She wasn't crying, not anymore. She was angry. "I had the choice. To just leave him locked up, like Morgan had, but I knew that Duane didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve any of it. I know he wasn't really alive, but I still killed him!"

"Stop it," Rick growled out, marching forward so quickly with such a menacing expression clouding his expression that Jamie actually stumbled back from the intensity. Standing before the living room wall, however, she didn't have anywhere to go and slammed back into the wall as Rick stepped right into her face. "Stop blaming yourself, Jamie, _right now_. You saved Duane, just—just like you saved Lori."

At the mention of the dead woman, Jamie's frantic eyes softened until they drifted closed.

"I don't think I ever thanked you, Jamie," Rick continued in a gentler tone, almost like he was whispering to her. "You stopped Lori from become one of those things, and I _know_ that she'd be grateful that you did. And then you brought her back to me, and you gave her a proper place to rest. So thank you, Jamie. One day, I'm sure Morgan will be thankful, too."

"He should have been the one. He needed that closure."

Reaching up to her face with one hand, his other arm too freshly damaged to move that much, Rick cupped one cheek in rough fingers and let his forehead tip to rest on hers. "I don't think he could have done it, Jamie. But now he can put him to rest, and that will be all the closure he needs. He knows that you gave Duane what he couldn't. Peace."

 _But where is_ my _peace?_ Jamie couldn't help but to wonder, resting her head against Rick's in return as she let out a long breath, knowing that he was right. Even though she knew that, however, there was an ache in her chest. There was a difference between reading that message, and being the one to end Duane's tortured existence.

"Thank you, Jamie," Rick breathed out softly, stroking her cheek with his thumb. The texture of her cheek told him that she had been crying, but he was relieved to know that she had been able to have that moment. He would rather she cry than try and smother those pains inside of herself.

She wanted to shake her head, tell him not to thank her, but she just couldn't do it. Rick had already been through enough.

"Thank you," Rick repeated, but his voice was barely the ghost of a whisper as his breath fanned her skin, his hand warm and pressing on her cheek. It was a reassurance to feel him there, holding onto her when she only wanted to crumble to pieces.

As he has done many times before, Rick pulled back enough to press a kiss against her forehead. He drew her in, holding her as close as he could with one good arm. She was sure to avoid his injured shoulder, pressing her cheek to the other, instead, as she inhaled almost languidly. For a moment, she could almost fool herself into thinking that it was Daryl holding her, comforting her, but the senses were all wrong. Rick was thinner than Daryl, and he held a distinctly different smell. But it was comfort and familiarity that lulled her cracking mind.

It was for that reason that when Rick's lips drifted down from her forehead, to her cheeks, to her lips, she didn't move back. For one second, Jamie fooled herself into believing that she was back in Daryl's arms, that he had never left her and she was home once more. Leaning ever so slightly into the kiss, Jamie relaxed for a moment. However, it was wrong. Like a sharp slap to her face, she realized that the man holding her in a lover's embrace was _not_ her lover.

In the same instant that Jamie's head jerked back with enough force to crack against the wall, Rick's hold released her like he'd been burned. Opening his eyes, he was left to stare forward at Jamie's light hazel eyes, instead of Lori's deep brown ones.


	22. Give Me Retribution, Brother

On the trip back to the prison, Jamie took over the driving since Michonne confessed to being less than experienced with night driving. Since she had often had to drive home in the dark, Jamie easily slipped behind the wheel while Rick settled into the passenger seat. Neither of them said a word. Carl tried to hold up conversation for the first while, but it was apparent that the day had tired the boy out because he was already beginning to doze away before the sun had even set.

Michonne seemed to want to keep out of the conversation, but the adults in the front knew that she was aware of something between the two. As Carl had been dredging one word answers from the two of them, she had seen the way that Jamie avoided where her arm nearly rested near Rick's and how Rick was nearly pressed into the door to put distance between Jamie and himself.

She knew better than to comment, however, and spent the drive back to the prison with her eyes out the window. Even when darkness settled around them and the only light that was provided came from the headlights, she kept her eyes focused on the dark forests and fields that they were passing.

The blonde behind the wheel was just relieved for the distraction, keeping her focus keen on her surroundings as she easily manoeuvred around walkers and obstacles in the road. They only stopped once when they passed by the man that had tried to have them stop, now eaten and left with barely any remains, so that Carl could snatch his backpack up from the ground. She didn't bother looking back as he did so, leaving her to pull away only when Carl had slammed his door once more.

Silence permeated the car, Carl's occasional snore breaking the silence for only a moment. Jamie had actually forgotten that there was anyone else in the car with her before Rick shifted to her right, adjusting the way that his injured arm had been sitting in his lap. Her eyes darted over to him just briefly, taking in the short, abrupt movement as she came back to herself.

_Rick took a hastened step back, putting greater distance between Jamie and himself. Her hands had lifted to her hand, running through the tied strands and loosening the tie that it had been in. With wide, hazel eyes, she looked thoroughly distraught. "Oh, no," she muttered at last, her head jerking with a sharp shake of denial. "No, no, no, no," she continued to repeat, before she turned abruptly to put herself face first into the wall, back to Rick._

_The sheriff wasn't much better off, appeared all the more pale as he nervously shook out his hand, remembering the way that he had cradled Jamie's cheek. He's been completely aware of who he had been holding at first, but then…it was Lori. It was his lost wife, safe in Heaven, who had returned to his arms. He had never had any intention to kiss Jamie, and found that he felt dizzy and wrong at the simple thought._

_Knowing that Daryl had trusted him completely with Jamie, with her safety and her feelings, Rick felt sick. He'd betrayed his friend and comrade in a way that he could never apologize enough for. "Jamie," Rick mumbled softly, seeing that the blonde woman was trembling. "I am_ so _sorry, Jamie. I never meant for that to happen." He reached for her, as though he wanted to comfort the clearly distraught woman, but he knew that he couldn't—he shouldn't—touch her. "I was thinking about Lori," he admitted a moment later, drawing away from her._

 _That seemed to catch her attention and she finally looked over her shoulder to him. "I know," she murmured at last, barely glancing at him over her shoulder. "I know you didn't mean to kiss_ me _, Rick. I sure as hell didn't mean to kiss you—no offence," she answered, looking almost distressed at the end when she realized what she had said._

_Rick almost wanted to laugh at the situation, but he could barely even manage a smile at her words. "None taken," he assured her, barely beginning to relax. He still felt dizzy and shaken, but he realized that neither of them had consciously cheated on their love. Jamie and Daryl were more pressing than Rick's love for his lost wife, but…it was too much. The wound was too fresh and for it to be with Jamie, of all people, he felt that he had betrayed Lori's memory in the worst way._

_Jamie slid down the wall with her back until she was sitting on the carpet, massaging at her temples. "How am I going to explain this to Daryl?" she asked, more to herself than to the man before her. "'I swear, I was thinking of you the whole time'?" she mocked, getting Rick to really smile this time._

" _We'll explain it to him together-"_

" _No!" Jamie denied immediately. "He's my husband, Rick. It was my fault, so I need to be the one to speak with him and explain it." Rick was oddly reminded of his first night back at the camp above the query, when he and T-Dog had been arguing over who should be the one to tell Daryl that Merle had been left behind. He knew that Jamie's argument was valid, but he was fully aware that Jamie's nature would leave her to take the full blame. Instead of telling Daryl the truth—that he had initiated the accidental kiss—she would take it all on her shoulders and make Rick seem to be the victim._

Pulling up to the locked gate, Glenn was the one to rush out and unlock it for them, Maggie standing watch for him. Jamie pulled carefully through the gate, parking the car closer to the block entrance than they usually would. No one had to speak as they were piling out of the car, immediately grabbing for the bags and crib. Maggie and Glenn returned to the guard tower to watch over the yard, resuming their duties until the shift was done.

Without saying a word, Jamie took all of the guns while Michonne and Carl got the crib that was filled with food; Rick wanted to protest his lack of help, but Jamie just shook her head at him. She didn't want to take any chances with his arm and she was far from a doctor so her cleaning job was not nearly good enough. Entering the anteroom to their cellblock revealed that the group was already up. Carol and Daryl were speaking softly over by the far end of the room while Hershel was with Beth and Judith.

"Looks like you did well," Hershel commented as soon as they entered the room, bags of food and weapons with ammo cluttering their arms and shoulders. Jamie placed the weapons off to the side, but the food was deposited on the table for Carol to go through since she was most often the one to cook for the group.

"We got what we needed," was Rick's simple answer, any form of pride for their loot removed because of _how_ they got it.

Carol caught on to the man's tone first and sat up a bit straighter in her seat. Hearing Rick's words, it wasn't hard to take notice of his shoulder from that point on. "What happened?" she asked quickly, rising onto her feet and moving to inspect the apparent injury.

"Ran into an old friend," Jamie explained blandly as she finished relieving her arms of all of the weapons bags, rolling her shoulders and causing the joints to crack. The long drive and then the weight of the bags were not a good combination for her, but she knew better than to complain after the things that she and the others had really been through. Stiff shoulders fell rather low on the list.

"What kind of friends have you been makin'?" Daryl called from the table that he had yet to leave. Rick just shook his head, not wanting to explain the situation any more than Jamie did, and instead moved over to Beth and Judith. He didn't want to chance trying to hold Judith with the damage to his shoulder, so he just looked down at the slumbering baby and used his still good hand to gently caress her head, marvelling at the softness of her short hair.

Hershel, already knowing his role, was rising onto his one leg and grabbed his crutches. "I'll get some of the supplies. Do you think you'll need stitches?" he began, looking over to where Rick was cooing down at his daughter.

"No," Rick answered, straightening up and shaking his head to second his word.

"Liar," Jamie called from the other end of the room, a bottle of water in hand. "He was stabbed with a knife, stitch 'im up."

Rick tried to protest, but one look from Jamie and he was just shaking his head with a sigh. Once she had her mind set on something, she was going to make sure that it happened. "I'll be in my cell," he told Hershel, who nodded his head before turning to get what he needed. Carol immediately moved to help him as Jamie approached Beth and Judith.

"Love her when she's sleeping," Jamie teased with a faint smile, looking down at her tiny face, slightly squished up now that there were people around her making noise. "I think you should put her in with Rick for now. Some things happened on the run and having Judith close should help him." Beth looked worried for a moment, already knowing that something had to have happened in order for Rick to be sporting a stab wound, but she nodded her head in agreement and moved to take Judith up to Rick's cell. Her temporary laundry-bin bed was already there, and since she was sleeping Rick wouldn't need to worry about his shoulder and holding her.

Hershel stopped beside Jamie as he was making his way to the cellblock, resting a hand on her shoulder. "You got anything that needs fixing?" His expectant tone almost made Jamie flush.

"I _am_ capable of not hurting myself," she teased back, causing him to grin as he was passing her.

"You should get some sleep," he advised as he grew serious. "You look like the days are catching up on you."

Sighing loudly as she rubbed at the back of her sore neck, Jamie nodded her head in understanding. "I should, I know, but I'm a bit too wired right now. I think I'll go and relieve Maggie and Glenn early, so they can turn in. Staring out at nothing for a couple of hours should make me sleepy again." Hershel didn't say anything more, but he gave her a long, hard stare that she knew was meant to make her change her mind. "I'll be fine, old man. Now go tend to the fearless leader before he thinks he's getting off the hook."

"Can I come out with you?" Carl asked Jamie, but she could see that he was swaying slightly on his feet. He'd already slept most of the drive but Jamie knew that, as a kid, he needed a lot more sleep than the rest of them.

"How about you go in and help your dad with Judith? I'm sure Beth could use a break and he can't quite lift her right now," she reasoned, "And later, if your dad's feeling better, you can come and see me."

Carl smiled, liking that she had entrusted Judith and his father to him, and nodded his head before he snatched his bag and made for his father's cell. Carol gave Jamie a quick hug to welcome her back before she rushed to follow Hershel, the bag of medical supplies in her hands since Hershel would have trouble carrying it with the crutches.

As the only person left in the room, Jamie glanced over to where Daryl was hunched at the far table, watching her silently. Opening her mouth, Jamie stopped as she realized that she didn't know what she was going to say. That she was sorry? That she hated how she'd acted? Licking her lips instead, the blonde woman took a deep breath and turned to the door, rushing up the stairs to get out of the anteroom. What could she say to him, after what she'd done? So, she ran away.

Clamoring up the ladder of the watch tower, Jamie banged on the hatch at the very top, both to warn the two in case they were having sex, and to get one of them to open it. It wasn't exactly a secret what Glenn and Maggie did when they were in the guard tower, mostly since there weren't many places to have privacy whilst in the prison, but no one commented on it since they weren't really doing anything wrong.

"Hey," Maggie greeted in surprise upon seeing Jamie as she lifted the hatch.

"Hello, you two," Jamie greeted in return as she hefted her body up through the opening. "I'm way to wired from the drive back, so why don't you go get some sleep and I'll stay here."

"You sure?" Glenn asked quickly. He'd seen how weary Jamie seemed as she was getting out of the car, but she did seem wide awake as she stood before them. Waving off his concern, Jamie encouraged them to head in for the last few hours of dark. "Alright, but don't stay out too long. You're going to need to sleep at some point."

"I know, and believe me I will crash when I do feel tired again," she assured, getting a rueful smile from Maggie before the couple slipped down the ladder, leaving one of the rifles with Jamie so that she wasn't relying solely on her handgun and knife in the event of something happening. Jamie was more accustomed to staying on the cat-walk these days, but the guard tower worked just as well and she was higher up to get a better vantage point over the yard. "Sleep well," she called down to the departing two before she closed the hatch after them and moved over to the window.

There was a shelf that surrounding the windows of the guard tower, probably a place for the guards to do some kind of paperwork while they were on the job, and Jamie now used this to sit so she could still look out the windows. While using the tower for watch, they had once used the balcony, but now had to stay inside so as not to be in immediate range of the Governor's men, should they be out there in the first place.

Keeping the rifle close, Jamie tucked her knees up close to her chest and rested her chin on so that she could support her head as she watching outside. She probably shouldn't have said she'd go on watch, as she really was dead tired, but she knew that without Rick or Daryl close by, she'd alert the entire prison to her screams. After the day she had just had, she _knew_ that her mind was going to destroy her. She had deliberately left her coat inside since she knew that being warm would send her right off. At least if she was uncomfortably chilly she wasn't going to doze.

Inside the cellblock, Daryl had yet to leave his seat. He wanted to run after Jamie, if only just to drag her back to make sure she slept, but he couldn't bring himself to get up. He was so afraid of being pushed away by her, whatever her reason could possibly be. Just as leaving her behind was her fear, Daryl's was being rejected by her. After so many years, as friends and more, they had always known that they would be there to comfort each other or to just be someone to go to, to trust.

He had been the first to break that trust.

It was shameful for him, after all that he had promised her, he still ended up leaving. How many times had she woken up, terrified, because she had dreamt that he was dead and gone only to have him promise that he was not going anywhere? How many times had those words left his lips only for him to leave anyway?

Sighing as he rested his forehead against his fisted hands, elbows leaning on the hard surface of the table, Daryl suddenly felt extremely tired.

"You're either a complete pussy or an absolute dumbass, little brother."

Merle stood at the entrance to one of the cages in the anteroom, secluded from the cellblock and where he had been spending his time since Daryl had brought him back to the prison. Most of the group overlooked him now that he wasn't directly in their face, tending to ignore him instead of constantly just giving him suspicious looks. Mostly due to respect for Daryl, he knew.

His little brother looked over to him in surprise, having forgotten that Merle was even there. "What?" he demanded, but he didn't even seem to have the energy to be annoyed at his brother's words. Merle scoffed and looked away from Daryl briefly and spotted Beth as she quickly moved away from the cellblock doors. She was giving them some privacy.

"Even I know that when your girl's ignoring you, angry with ya, you don't just stay away," Merle snorted in mock laughter. "Seriously, little bro, what do you think she's waiting for?"

"She doesn't want to be near me," Daryl reminded Merle, thinking to her standing there, about to speak, before she rushed off as fast as she could. "What am I gunna say? Huh? Sorry I chose my brother over you?"

"Yes!" Merle almost cheered. "Yes, you moron! Because that's what you did! All of those years, all of the shit that she was put through because of your life, she never left. Fuck, why is this so hard for you?" Daryl was starting to look angry, but Merle wasn't finished. "Do you know how much faith that annoying chick had in you? She kept spouting out that you would find her, save her. She was downright positive that you'd be there."

Stepping right into Daryl's face, Merle was glaring at him now.

"But where'd ya go, little brother?"

"What did you want me to do, take her with us?" Daryl countered. "You two would'a killed each other before we'd gone a _mile_!" The siblings were blatantly yelling at one another at that point, but they didn't seem to care if anyone else heard them. Everyone was awake anyway—excluding Maggie and Glenn, who had stepped in after Jamie left the cellblock.

"Wasn't your decision, you know it. She's a grown-ass woman, and she should've made that choice." Merle fell to sit with Daryl, the younger of the Dixon brothers never once lifting the glare that he had settled on Merle. "If I left this prison today, would you follow?" Merle asked, resting his stumped arm on the table and leaning in to his brother, looking him dead in the eye.

Daryl hesitated as his eyes shifted away from Merle's.

Chuckling, Merle shook his head. "There ya go. _That's_ why the Blue Jay is still pissed at ya. Usually she'd just bitch you out for leavin' and get over it, but now she knows that if it happened once, it'll happen again."

Letting out a loud sigh, Daryl ran his fingers through his hair in one, quick swipe that left the strands to fall right back over his forehead. "That's on her, though. The hell am I supposed to do to stop her thinkin' that? You know as well as I do that she won't change her mind once it's set." That sounded weak, even to Daryl, but he knew that if he didn't make some valid point against Merle his brother was going to throw him out until he and Jamie had sorted their issues.

"Would you please grow a pair of balls and go talk to your fuckin' wife?"

Daryl's attention snapped back to his brother in surprise; that was the first time that Merle had actually admitted to Jamie being his wife. Whether or not they had a certificate or some shit like that, they were as close to married as they could be. With his remaining hand, Merle motioned toward the door of the cellblock in a sweeping gesture—basically telling Daryl to get his ass in gear and to talk to Jamie.

"For fuck's sake, would you rather lose her to the Governor and regret not talking to her? She may scream at ya, she may smack ya, but you know she'll forgive ya," Merle finally grumbled out, beginning to get annoyed with Daryl's hesitation. "I'm tired of seeing you sitting here like a fuckin' kicked puppy."

Before Daryl could leave the anteroom, however, Rick stopped him.

"Before you go out there, I need to talk to you."

Daryl hadn't even realized that the other man had returned from his cell, standing in the entrance to the cellblock with a fresh shirt covering his recently treated shoulder. He knew that he had to catch Daryl before he went to speak with Jamie, even if it meant that he took the redneck's anger onto himself entirely. He wasn't going to let Jamie did it again; she'd already saved him from the hate when she said that she'd killed Shane, he was _not_ going to let her do it again.

Daryl frowned at the other man's tone. "Some things happened on the run you need to know…before you go and see her."

Instead of motioning for Daryl to follow him into the cellblock or to sit back down, as he had been expecting, Rick began to walk toward the tombs. Even Merle was glaring at the odd choice, but he said nothing as the two men departed into the darkness of the tombs, each with a weapon on them just in case something happened. They didn't go too far, stopping when they reached the solitary corridor that Daryl had found Carol in.

"What happened out there?" Daryl asked as soon as Rick had stopped walking, still facing away from him. It was giving him a queasy feeling in his stomach.

"Did Jamie ever tell you about Morgan and Duane?" Rick asked after a pause, having decided that he wasn't going to jump right into talking about what happened in the apartment after they left Morgan.

"The guys that saved your ass? Yea, she's mentioned 'em."

Sighing as he pushed his hair out of his face, scratching at his forehead with his thumb, Rick turned slightly to look back at the other man. "Morgan was still there, and he tried to kill us when he first spotted us on the street. Carl knocked him out by shooting him in the chest, in the Kevlar he was wearing, and we took him up to the place he'd been staying. That's where we got all the guns—he'd been collecting them." Taking a moment to make sure that Daryl fully understood so far, Rick continued. "Jamie was sitting where I'd tied him down when he got out, cut his binds with a knife he'd stashed away. She wasn't hurt," he assured as soon as he saw a flash across Daryl's eyes, knowing what the man was thinking. Even with only a flashlight in the tunnels to light their view, he would see his concern for her.

"He the one who did that to ya?" Daryl asked with a nod to Rick's shoulder, relaxing now that he knew that Jamie hadn't been hurt by the man that she had told him about now and again.

"Yea," Rick answered almost absently, barely glancing to his wounded joint. "Jamie got him off of me before he could do anything worse. We got him tied down again and he told us what had happened after we left for Atlanta—that Duane had been turned into a walker."

Daryl cursed softly as he bowed his head a moment. He'd known that she was fond of the kid by the look in her eyes when she'd told him about her time with them.

Rick continued telling Daryl what had happened, even though he was sure that the man already had a basic idea of what had transpired. "Jamie went out to catch some air, get away from Morgan, and she ended up finding where he'd locked Duane in a store."

"She put him down, didn't she?"

He didn't even have to look at Rick's nod to know that she had, but he needed the man to confirm it anyway. "She put him down," Rick confirmed. "But she left him there for Morgan to bury. She wanted him to have closure that he wasn't able to get before—he was haunting himself with Duane being left as he was. Jamie did the right thing."

"She didn't think that, did she?" Daryl asked rhetorically. "Damn woman wishes that she could save everybody," he grumbled to himself, keeping his voice low as he watched the shadows flash along the wall that were caused by the flashlight as Rick moved it around. "What else happened?" he asked after a moment of silence between them.

Rick's lips thinned, knowing that he couldn't avoid the question and the topic any longer. "We went to look for some supplies while we were there. I wanted to talk to her, to get her to see that she'd done the right thing. I thanked her for saving Lori—I don't think I'd done it before. After all she did for me and Morgan, she deserved to be shown gratitude. But…it only helped so much. Morgan brought you up a lot, and I think she'd been beating herself up on not reconciling things before she left with me."

Daryl almost wanted to laugh at the irony, but at the same time he had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. If she'd been thinking like that, why'd she avoid him when she came back?

Rick held completely still as he stood across from the other man. "I kissed her."

He wasn't going to move if Daryl went to hit him; he'd take what he deserved. However, Daryl just stared at him for a moment, his eyes as chilled as ice as he stared Rick down. Never before had he looked as lethal, feral and angry as he did while watching the other man. He was roughly the same height as the hunter, but that stare alone made him feel absolutely tiny. Briefly, Rick wondered how Shane had met it head on so many times.

"Why?" Daryl demanded at last, the simple word barked out so sharply, but in such a low tone that it caused Rick to flinch just slightly.

"I didn't mean to," Rick said immediately. "I was thinking about Lori, and how much I _missed_ her. I was holding Jamie and I just-" Unable to stand the dark stare anymore, Rick looked away as he wiped a hand along his stubble covered jaw. "I'm sorry, Daryl. I honestly did not realize what I was doing and when I did I stepped away. I swear."

Looking to Daryl again, the dark stare hadn't changed and was still levelled on Rick with frightening patience.

At last, he blinked and turned to look at the wall to his right. The burning in his chest told him to punch Rick as hard as he could, because he had dared to touch Jamie in any way more than a friend. He had been able to know that they had slept side by side, embraced to comfort one another, and not be bothered—but a kiss?

"Daryl-"

Rick's plea was cut short when Daryl's fist finally connected with his jaw, the burning in his chest becoming too much for him to deny the urge. Rick was thrown to the side, colliding with the other wall as the flashlight dropped from his hand. The hit didn't make Daryl feel any better, but he at least knew that he had gotten some form of retribution from the other man. "Damn it, Rick," he growled out with his hand still clenched in a fist.

The elder man wasn't surprised or angered that Daryl had punched him, already expecting—hoping—for it to happen. His bottom lip was split and he knew that he'd had a nice bruise and some swelling around the area. Rick was well aware that Daryl could have hit him significantly harder, but there was something holding him back from completely beating the other man.

"What did she do?" Daryl demanded after he had taken a breath and compose himself. His hands were still tense at his sides, but Rick didn't think that he was going to hit him again.

"She pulled away," Rick answered without hesitation. "She hated herself for it. She couldn't look at me, but we talked it over. Neither of us meant for it to happen—she wanted to tell you herself, but I knew that she'd take the blame again. _I_ kissed _her_ ; I needed you to know that!"

"Stop fuckin' sayin' that!" Daryl bellowed after a moment, looking as though he was ready to strangle the other man. "I get the fuckin' point, a'right? So stop saying it!" Daryl's cheeks were flushed with his anger and the tendons on his neck were standing out against his skin, a testament to how badly he was fighting against the urge to break something.

Using his good arm, Rick held up a hand in a sign of submissiveness. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry," he repeated, ignoring the small stream of blood that was making its way down his chin. "But that's all that happened, Daryl, I swear. We finished sweeping the building and then we left the town. You know that I wouldn't do this to you, and Jamie would sooner die than betray you."

Daryl was well aware of the truth in Rick's words, but it didn't make it any easier to know that another man had held his wife, had kissed his wife. It didn't take a genius to know that Rick and Jamie cared for one another, but it was nothing beyond friendship. She never once looked at Rick with anything more than friendship, pride or trust. It was different when she looked at Daryl, so he wasn't worried that he was going to lose his wife to his newfound brother.

Letting out a long, tired sigh, Daryl fell back to lean against the cold concrete of the wall along the hall of solitary. Rick was silent as he allowed for the younger man to collect his thoughts. He knew exactly how Daryl felt, knowing that Lori had been with Shane while he was still in the hospital ate at him for so long, and he would let Daryl have whatever he wanted to get over the knowledge.

Even if that meant getting another right hook to the face.

"I'm gunna go see her," Daryl confided suddenly. "You might want someone on watch at the other catwalk. Can't imagine we'll be watching for anything."

Rick could only hope that he didn't mean they'd be fighting too much to pay attention outside the tower.

However, Daryl stopped before he'd even left the hallway. "You said again," he called back to the Sheriff, still facing the exit. Rick's brow drew downward in a frown, unsure about what Daryl was referring to. "You said take the blame _again_."

_Oh._

Turning around to meet Rick's tired eyes once more, all he could see in them was shame. "Jamie didn't kill Shane. I did."


	23. Dancing on Top of Flames

Roughly scratching at the back of his head, Daryl swore under his breath as he marched through the abandoned tombs to get to the nearest exit. The moment he stepped out of the prison the chill of the fading summer nights drew him to a tenser posture, but he didn't stop or slow in his stride toward the tower that Jamie would have gone to get Maggie and Glenn. He couldn't see her from where he was, meaning that she was either on the other side or out of the view of the windows. He hoped that she was being smart and staying out of view.

Daryl didn't even pause as he threw open the door to the tower, knowing that he'd hesitate about the confrontation that was about to take place. It was pitch black inside, making his ascent slow as he first had to feel out where the rungs of the ladder were. One would think that he'd have less trouble after the number of times he had been up and down the tower ladders, but it was just something that his brain didn't want to store away, to remember.

He supposed it would be a lot like the claustrophobic feeling that he got when he was in a cell. Spending the nights without Jamie only made it worse.

She had told Rick that she thought she took advantage of his presence, that she had become so accustomed to him being there, and therefore had reduced nightmares because of it. However, she did the same for Daryl in a manner of speaking. He wouldn't wake up trembling from fear of the dreams that he had, but when she was close enough for him to feel, to smell, to hear, he didn't dream of her being killed or gone. Having her sleeping at his side aided his mind in knowing that she was safe and therefor kept any nightmares away.

He preferred sleeping through the night without dreams of seeing her die, or what it would be like to be in the apocalypse and knowing that she was dead.

Reaching the end of the ladder, Daryl pushed on the hatch at the top and it immediately creaked loudly at his entrance. The moment he could peek over the top, he spotted Jamie sitting on the ledge around the windows with her eyes keenly focused on him. Clearly, she had immediately turned to look at him the moment she heard the hatch lifting, and it relieved him to know that she was still alert, but she was also pale and appeared so tired. It made Daryl's heart ache to know that she could be doing so much better if he had just approached her sooner.

He wasn't sure whether he wanted to thank Merle, or kick him. However, he did suddenly wish that he had hit Rick again. Or at least harder.

"You don't have to be here, I can handle watch until sunrise," she stated outright upon realizing who had come to join her.

"Shut up," Daryl grumbled out as he pushed himself from the opening and closed the hatch behind him again. Jamie leaned more heavily against the window, giving in as her mind came to the conclusion that he had no intention of leaving. There was a sharp inkling of annoyance at him being there, but she also couldn't help but to be relieved that—finally—he had come for her.

She shouldn't have run away from him, she already knew that, but to know that he had come to her, hopefully to mend things between them, gave her a renewed sense of hope. If he came to her, left his brother alone, perhaps he would keep her.

A laugh almost bubbled up at the thought. _Keep her_. She'd never realized, but she truly was possessed by Daryl. He was her everything; she gave herself away to him willingly. A smile still graced her lips, however, because she had missed that rugged and straightforward manner that was so _Daryl_. As much as she loved Rick's company, she really did hate that he was so _fatherly_ sometimes. He just instinctively sugar-coated whatever he was saying to someone, trying to protect a person as he would with his son. The hope was compressed in her chest, however, as her conscience sourly reminded her of the kiss she had shared with Rick.

Daryl relaxed at the sight of the smile, almost smirking back at her as he straightened his posture to meet her eyes on a more even level. She was so bunched up on the bench that Daryl would be amazed if she was actually comfortable. On top of that, she was bare armed and even he would admit that the air had a rather frigid bite to it. "Yer gunna get sick like that," he scolded with a frown. Jamie looked away so suddenly that Daryl knew she'd done it on purpose.

She was trying to keep herself awake. On top of that, her smile was gone and in its place was a set frown.

"Why are you out here, Daryl?" she asked as she kept her eyes out the window of the tower.

He _refused_ to let her do that, to turn away from him again after she had offered him that first smile. Grabbing her arm roughly, Daryl hauled her off of the bench roughly enough that her legs barely caught her as her other arm flung out to keep her balance, resulting with her elbow slamming into the wall beam. Moments later, her back connected with the glass just beside it as Daryl's hands encased her arms and held her back against the cold surface.

"I'm sick of this, Angel. I came back! What more do you want from me!"

Daryl could see the instant switch in Jamie's mood, darkening her eyes with her anger as her brows drew into a frown and her lips thinned. "You left!" she screamed back at him, shoving his chest to put more space between them. But he came right back. He wasn't going to let her put any distance between them again. If he was the one that was going to make this right, he was going to have to fight to do so. Jamie, however, was not finished. Her fists beat on his chest with enough force that Daryl knew he'd be bruised. "The fuck did you think was going to happen? I'd come weeping to your arms like nothing happened?"

"I'm sorry, Angel, you know-"

" _No_!"

Daryl jerked at the ferocity of her yell, a particularly hard shove rocking him back on his heels. She looked livid, but her voice had cracked on that one word and Daryl realized she was trying to keep herself angry instead of heartbroken. She knew how to deal with anger better than grief or loss.

"You don't get to act like an 'I'm sorry' makes it all better," she growled back at him, gold eyes chillingly frigid as they stared at him. It wasn't as though he'd never seen that look before, she'd given it to the inmates plenty of times in the span that they had been alive—he'd just never thought that the silently enraged stare would be directed at _him_.

Then again, Merle wasn't exactly planned.

"You promised me you weren't going anywhere, but you _left_ ," Jamie hissed out, stepped back up to Daryl only so that she could hiss the words directly into his face. "I know that Merle and I don't get along, but whether or not I have to put up with him should have been _my_ decision!" Back away from Daryl and walking around the hatch, subconsciously avoiding it, Jamie had to look away from him in order to collect herself. "I don't give a fuck about Merle, Daryl, if it means that I don't end up losing you."

Lifting her body onto the bench below the window once more, Jamie scrubbed at her face for a moment prior to heaving a long breath and pushed her fingers back through her hair. Daryl watched her silently as she composed herself. Her words were painfully accurate, her expressions and reactions making it all that much worse.

"I wasn't just going to leave you, Jamie," Daryl finally said in a quiet tone, keeping back so that she didn't end up feeling crowded again. "I would _never_ just leave you like that. But I couldn't leave Merle, either, and the group would never take him in. Even now he's getting by on the skin of his teeth." Taking the chance, Daryl stepped before Jamie and took her face in his hands carefully, feeling how chilled her cheeks were in comparison to his palms. Relief washed through him when she didn't pull away and only closed her eyes peacefully. "I love you, Angel, I love you _so_ much."

Letting his head tip forward to rest his forehead against hers, Daryl closed in eyes and inhaled deeply to take in the smell that clung to Jamie's skin. He could smell sweat and the barest hint of blood, a mixture that he had become accustomed to finding on her over the months. She leaned into him in return, sighing softly against his lips as her hands fell onto his arms for support.

"I'd rather have you safe, here, with you hatin' me than out there, with Merle. He changes you, Angel. He changes everyone. I didn't want you to have to be like that—I knew that Rick would take care of you here." Shifting his hold on her, Daryl tipped Jamie's head to press a kiss against her forehead softly. Her entire body tensed at his words and Daryl knew exactly what she was thinking. Her eyes remained closed to bask in the sensations that he brought to her, hoping to savor it for when he eventually pushed her away. "Couldn't even stay away from you for a day," he added on after a moment, his breath tickling her forehead.

Unable to contain the sad, almost hysteric laugh that bubbled up, Jamie was silently weeping when she turned her face to kiss the inside of his left palm. Tugging his arms a second later, Daryl let her draw him in until her arms could circle his neck and her cool cheek was being warmed against his throat.

"I'm so sorry," she said as her hands them pushed at him, forcing him away from her. "Daryl, Rick and I-"

"He already told me what happened, Angel," Daryl interrupted easily. He'd already heard the story from Rick, it would be even more painful to hear it from Jamie. The blonde's eyes widened before she blinked at Daryl in shock, unsure how to take what he was telling her. "He kisses ya, it was an accident. Neither of ya meant it."

His easygoing attitude toward the words coming out of his mouth baffled her.

"I punched him in the face."

_That was more like it._

"I guess I deserve a punch in the face, too," she snorted out after a brief pause, finally having collected her thoughts enough for them to at least be coherent. However, Daryl looked livid at the very thought of her being harmed.

"Don't!" he shouted, reaching for her again. She almost winced at the harsh grip that Daryl was using, but at the same time the harshness was like an anchor. She knew that so long as he was holding her as he was, he wouldn't be leaving her behind. "No one's ever gunna touch you, got it? I don't care if it's the Governor tryin' to kill you or Rick tryin' to kiss you, no more!"

"He wasn't kissing _me_!" Jamie snapped back. She sounded desperate. "It was _Lori_ , Daryl. _Always_ Lori. Just like, for me, it'll always be you. I'll never think of another man, or kiss another man, or embrace another man, the way that I do you. You have to believe, Daryl, that these past few days have been a harder hell than any other. Because no matter how much I missed you, I couldn't even _look_ at you. I'm still terrified that I'll wake up tomorrow and you and Merle will be gone again."

Daryl took Jamie's shuddering body in against his, letting his lips fall against the chilled flesh of her temple. His arms caged her, held her from fleeing as she so desperately wanted to do, restrained her solidly against his body. Then she lay lax against him, finally releasing the tension that had her coiled up since Daryl had mentioned Rick.

"Damn you," she mumbled against his neck at last, too tired to do more. Her hand was faintly hurting from where she had stupidly punched his pectoral muscle and her arms throbbed with the reminded of his hold on her. He was soft now, however, as he cradled her to his body with the utmost care. "Be angry."

"No," Daryl denied, finding that he was telling the truth. He couldn't muster up anymore anger toward her. Taking her face gently between his hands, clearing the tears that had torturously gathered on her skin, Daryl leaned down to claim her lips before she could say more. Those lips had been kissed by another and in a natural, instinctual urge, Daryl had to reclaim them. Whether Rick had meant the kiss or not, he had still taken that liberty and Daryl had to rectify it somehow. Jamie sighed against his lips, a caress of warm air against the cool chill inside the tower. Her cheeks were cold beneath his hands, as her arms had been when he grabbed her, and he wished nothing more than to bring a flush to her skin, and warmth to her body.

Jamie grabbed at his shirt and drew him in as her body trembled with the need to touch him, to draw him against her and hold him until time ran out. She breathed him in and took his heat, meeting it with her own and letting him devour her in return. Lips slanting against his, slick with saliva from the swipe of her tongue, Jamie pushed from the bench with her legs locked around his waist. The space between them became non-existent as Daryl grabbed at her legs and took her weight, keeping her locked in place against him.

Fingers delving into her already loosened hair with one hand, Daryl supported her with the other beneath her ass as he manoeuvred them away from the open view of the window. Her body arched into his at the feeling of his hold against her backside, resulting in his hand tugging on her hair suddenly before he softened his grasp. Leaning her against a section of metal between one of the windows of the tower, Daryl felt Jamie's legs tighten around his hips briefly before they loosened and let her feet drop back to the ground. Standing on her own once more, Jamie was left to look upward into his eyes, his slightly advanced height leaving her feeling enclosed and secure beneath him.

Hand now free, Daryl slipped his fingers into the front hem of Jamie's jeans and tugged, drawing her hips against his as his lips continued to devour her, tongue tasting all she had to offer before claiming it.

She sighed against his lips, trying to breathe him in as she tugged at his hand, his shirt, his arms, trying to bring him as close as she could. Their bodies moulded together, so familiar, that it made her groan and arch into him for more.

Using the fingers still hooked down into her jeans, Daryl slid them down gradually, only having to pause to undo her belt when it proved nothing more than a nuisance. Unwilling to part from her lips just yet, Daryl was able to shimmy the jeans down to mid-thigh, exposing the plain black briefs that Jamie was wearing beneath. Her legs had gotten pale from always wearing jeans, but Daryl was satisfied to see that her hip bones were no longer protruding through her skin.

"You're taking too long," she gasped out finally, barely pulling away from him to get the words passed her lips.

"Shut up," he growled back, prying her underwear down after her jeans. Her head threw backward when his fingers came in contact with the moist skin beneath, her entire body rocking in a tremble that was caused by the simple touch. Daryl almost groaned in answer, pleased by her response. With her throat fully exposed to him, Daryl dove in and tasted the tanned flesh, taking in the salty sweat and hot flesh that branded his lips.

She was _burning_.

Pulling rather forcefully on his hair, Jamie pulled his head back and away from her throat to bite sharply at his bottom lip, reprimanding him. However, she wasn't prepared for his fingers suddenly curling inside of her, stroking her walls and causing her jaw to drop open as a groan openly slipped up her throat. He was playing dirty.

"Fuck," she breathed out, eyes closed in bliss, as her head tipped to land on his shoulder. The action blew the scent of Jamie's skin into Daryl's face and drew him in closer, inhaling at her throat. " _Please_ , Daryl…"

Finally leaning away from her, he heaved her shirt over her head to bare her torso. The complete lack of clothing on her upper body caused her to shiver against the chill, but Daryl's hands fell hot against her skin, prompting her body to arch into the welcomed heat. Ripping her hair from the tie that kept it bound, Daryl stripped her of each stitch of clothing. Her hands tugged and shucked each article of his in answer, baring his skin to her eyes and hands; he welcomed the contact.

"I'm on watch," Jamie mumbled against his shoulder even as she pulled his belt clean from the loops of his cargos, almost breaking the zipper in her haste to take it down. He could feel her teeth against his skin as she spoke, causing his muscles to jump at the sensation.

"I told Rick to cover for us," Daryl answered, his voice gravelled and deep. It sent a sensual shiver down Jamie's spine, his fingers seeming to chase the tremble along her back. "Stop talking," he added on a second later, tipping her head to claim her lips once more. She never stopped her work on his pants even as her let her tongue dance with his, curving her body closer to his and sighing at the skin contact.

Toeing off his boots on his own, Daryl couldn't stop his body from quivering as Jamie slid down his body to remove his pants, ghosting her lips along the his abdomen before she caressed the new skin she had revealed. Bracing a hand against the wall, he leaned heavily against it while kicking his pants away from his ankles to free them. He could _feel_ Jamie grin at his reaction before her tongue met the skin over his hip, teasing him by being _so damn close_.

Going against his own order, Daryl grumbled low, "Angel," while slipping a hand into her hair and gently pulling. She followed the guiding movement and let him pull her body up along his once more, backing her into the wall. The cold metal against her back made her flinch and hitch her breath abruptly, but Daryl didn't react to it and swallowed the sounds that she made as his hands caught her legs and pulled them back around his waist. "Hold onto me," he encouraged. Immediately, her legs tightened around his hips and her arms wound around his neck, pressing her breasts against him agonizingly close.

Jamie was able to push the thought of the immediate cold from her mind, focusing entirely on Daryl instead. She tried to keep herself quiet, to smother the sounds that he pulled from her, but it was all so overwhelming. The last time they had been together seemed to be ages ago, making everything that much stronger between them.

So she did as she was told and held onto him as tightly as she could, from her arms to the heels of her feet. He made her forget about the cold metal of the wall behind her, or the fatigue that had been weighing on her bones since she had left with Rick for supplies. His breaths were huffed hot against her neck, moistening her skin further as sweat beaded along her collar.

Daryl was holding her so tightly, she briefly wondering if she was going to walk away with hand shaped bruises at her sides and hips. Not that she cared. No matter how sore or bruised she was, to her it was always worth it. Any chance that she received to be with Daryl, especially after the past couple of days, would be welcomed with open arms. Let him mark her, brand her with bites or bruises.

It seemed that they were making up more than they were together these days, and that scared Jamie to death. If there was one thing that she could _not lose_ , it was Daryl.

Her nails cut into his back as he thrust that much harder into her body, pushing her flush against the wall and caging her there with his stronger form. He couldn't decide where to hold, which span of flesh to grab and caress, bruise and claim. He took heavy inhales of her scent, pressing his lips against her throat to keep her close.

Turning into him, Jamie gasped against the stubble on Daryl's cheek. "Down," she choked out. "Down," she repeated with a tight voice, desperate. Daryl seemed to understand what she was saying before she had to say a word more, pulling away from the wall and letting her drop her legs from his hips. They clambered roughly to the metal floor, laying on the scattering of clothes, pushing away a discarded boot that got in the way. Daryl pressed back into her body without ceremony, but was welcomed into heat and soft flesh.

Now that he wasn't supporting both of their weight, he didn't have to be gradual, he didn't have to be slow. Spurred on by the sounds that Jamie was desperately trying to quiet, Daryl moved her pliable body to his desire, hitching a leg over his hip to open her to him. Jamie nearly screamed at the change, one hand flying up between her teeth, cutting the sound at her throat.

Trying to find purchase on the metal floor, Daryl's hand ended up landing on Jamie's discarded shirt and let his arm slide out. She didn't seem to care at the sudden weight that fell down on her, taking advantage of his proximity to press her face into his shoulder. She didn't care that it was hard with bone and muscle, making it less than comfortable, because it was a solid support and kept her that much closer to him. Her teeth scraped his flesh as she gasped for air, trying to roll her hips up to match his movements, but he was heavy on her body and kept her still even as he moved, endlessly controlling the rhythm.

"Daryl," Jamie choked out as her body began to burn. "Daryl, Daryl, Daryl." She was soon chanting his name, her tone changing with every thrust into her body, leaving her breathy or hitched, high or low. He took every one, hearing his name roll from her tongue and finding the greatest pleasure in each.

"Hold onto me," Daryl gritted out, the words forced. "Hold onto me, Angel."

She nearly clawed at his back, finding that she could never get a good enough hold on him. He always seemed about to slip away.

"Not yet," she denied to herself, feeling the sting against her eyes that as tears nearly fell when her emotions began to overwhelming the blind passion. "Not yet, please."

Daryl cupped the back of her head with one hand, guiding her to face him until he could claim her lips in a slow, almost sloppy kiss. "S'alright," he slurred out, finding it more difficult to form coherent words the hotter she became against him. "I'm here, babe. Not goin' anywhere." Daryl could feel the clench of her jaw, trying to hold herself back from the edge.

"Don't go," she begged finally, opening hazed eyes to finally look up at him. Sweat was shining on her skin and her hair was a soft halo around her head, contrasting with the dark metal of the floor. Daryl groaned at the very sight of her, so exposed and open before him. "Don't leave me." The broken crack in her voice made Daryl's chest ache as he slowed the pace of his hips, watching her lips part at the sudden change.

"Never again, Angel," he assured, trying to coax her to open her eyes to him again. So many times, they lost themselves in blind passions whenever the fell into the sins of the flesh, forgetting that it was the love between them that made those passions burn that much brighter. "Just let go, babe. Let go for me," he encouraged as his lips barely teased hers, letting her feel the heat of his words and the softness of his actions. He kept his thrusts slow, bringing her leg higher on his side, but he was able to reach that much deeper.

Just as it had always done in the past, the gradual thrusts affected her more quickly, leaving her to stutter against Daryl's lips as her will crumbled. He swallowed her scream as he felt her body tremble and tense, tightening almost unbearably around him. He had to part, grudgingly, from her lips when he was left to heave for air, feeling like he was drowning, being smothered, as the heat and soft flesh became too much.

She was gasping his name again, her voice like a whisper as she tried to fight to regain her own will to breathe. She could feel the ripple of his muscles beneath her hands, the span of his back coated in sweat and that much harder to grip as she tried to collect herself even just a little. Daryl's forehead rested on hers, his face angled just enough that as he gasped for air she could feel each hot exhale against her cheek as she greedily gulped in air that was tinged with his scent and flavour.

Even as tired as his muscles had suddenly become, Daryl couldn't bring himself to let her go. His hand still supported the leg that pressed against his side, the softness of her inner thigh teasing his sensitive skin.

"Fuck, I missed you," he breathed out against her neck then, his nose skimming along the skin as he began taking her skin with opened mouthed kisses, bringing her down from the high that she had been soaring in. "You'd have to kill me for me to leave you again, Angel. I swear."

Eyes shimmering with tears, Jamie gave a watery, relieved smile as she pressed a kiss against his stubble covered cheek.


	24. Where Is Home?

Jamie was the one on watch when Andrea came by a second time, driving a car this time instead of pushing a walker through a crowd. She almost wanted to refuse her, feeling that sick pit in her stomach that told her nothing good came of Andrea's visits. However, she opened the gates and let her inside, not even having to tell the others that she was hear when they came spilling out at the sound of a car that was not theirs. She kept her rifle hitched on her hip as she was standing at the fence, watching as Andrea and Rick stepped aside to talk.

Rick was still sporting a faint split in his lip from Daryl's punch but the stubble on his jaw hid the yellow of a healing bruise. Jamie felt slightly bad every time she saw it, since he'd gotten punched and Daryl hadn't even really yelled at her. She knew, however, that it was a male thing and it had at least settled everything between the two. They didn't act any different than they had before the supply run, returning to their tight-knit partnership.

"I don't like this," she said aloud, Hershel and Daryl standing closest to her and able to hear what she said. Daryl had a matching look of distrust on his face, glaring over at Andrea.

"Maybe something good will come of it," Hershel suggested, but even he didn't exactly sound convinced at the thought. For Andrea to be there was a painful reminder of everything that had happened with the Governor already, and that she was against them this time.

She was no longer a part of the family.

"Nah, she's right," Daryl denied before Jamie had the chance. "Andrea thinks she's helping but she's just making us face off. It'd be easier to just let us forget about each other." Jamie scoffed at the thought of either group just 'forgetting' but she knew what Daryl meant. Watching as Rick and Andrea spoke, none of them felt good about the expression on Rick's face. He was scowling at the lost member of their group, his hand instinctively resting on the Colt Python in his belt.

It wasn't that he was threatening Andrea, but he felt threatened by her.

Jamie glanced over to where Merle was lingering in the cage that exited the cellblock, his posture almost casual as he leaned against the side of the door, but his folded arms and set scowl told differently. "Shit's about to hit the proverbial fan," Jamie mumbled before letting her rifle lower until the butt was resting on the ground.

Daryl made a discontented growling sound low in his throat, a sneer on his lips.

"Hey," Carol called in greeting, stepping up to the small group of three. "I'll take on the next watch," she said to Jamie, speaking softly. "I haven't had one in a couple of days," she added on when Jamie started to refused, having only just started her watch recently. "Go on in, have something to eat. It'll be fine."

Sighing softly when she realized that she wasn't going to win against Carol, Jamie gave up quietly. Carol already had one of the new rifles strapped to her back so Jamie shouldered hers and stepped aside to let Carol up the stairs to the catwalk. "Thanks, Carol," she offered with a smile, briefly grasping the other woman's hand to give an assuring squeeze. Carol smiled back before she jogged up the steps, metal rattling as she did so.

"Come on," Daryl called to Jamie, letting her step into his side as his arm fell comfortably over her shoulders. It had been a day since they had spent the night in the guard tower, and they hardly left each other's side. The rest of the group seemed relieved to see it, even Merle, but no one outright commented on the relief to see them back together.

All except for Carl.

When they'd come out of the guard tower the morning after Jamie had supposedly been on watch, Carl had spotted Daryl walking with her, arm over her shoulders with her drawn into his side, and scoffed with a faint smile. "Finally," he'd said, loud enough for everyone to hear. It had relieved a lot of tension in the prison, letting everyone have a small laugh as Jamie and Daryl just went about as they had before he'd left.

Sitting at one of the tables in the cafeteria, Jamie was thankful that Carol had made up some of the canned food that they'd found while in Rick's hometown instead of that gruel slop that they had from the cafeteria of the prison. "I never realized how much I loved corn," she joked with Daryl as she finished off her bowl, not leaving a single kernel of yellow behind.

"You always loved your vegetables," he countered, having already eaten his share. He suddenly reached down and took Jamie's legs, pulling them up to rest across his as his hands began to gentle kneed the muscles of her legs. She moaned softly at the feeling, her calf muscles sore from all of the running, walking, moving. "I remember whenever I'd come over and you'd have dinner cooked up. You'd have a vegetable of every colour on the plate if you could fit it."

"Hey, you loved my cooking," she teased back. "Especially when I was cooking something you'd caught out hunting."

"Couldn't barbeque worth a damn, though."

Glancing over at Merle voice, Jamie actually smirked at his words. "Well, in my defence, you're barbeque was an old rust bucket that would sooner burn down than cook a steak."

Merle settled into a place at the opposite side of the table, resting the metal stump of arm on the table so that the weight wasn't dragging on his arm. "Hey now, I salvaged that thing. Didn't have to pay a cent."

Daryl just shook his head at his brother while Jamie snorted. "My point exactly."

They all fell silent when they heard the distant rumble of a car starting up, telling them that Andrea was already leaving. The comfortable atmosphere almost immediately disappeared as Jamie pulled her legs away from Daryl, turning to face the entrance more fully. Rick would get them all together before he explained why Andrea was there. They weren't waiting long as Rick appeared first, his arm cradled against his gun belt, with the rest of the group filing in behind him. Carol remained close to the door, ready to return to her watch as soon as the news was passed on.

"The Governor wants to set up a meet," he started immediately, lifting a small scrap of paper that had been in his free hand. "In three days, he wants me to meet him here so we can discuss some terms. Andrea told me that he's willing to talk things over, so that no one else has to die."

"What Andrea says doesn't mean that it's what the Governor will do," Jamie interrupted briefly, already looking unsettled at the thought of the meeting. She didn't trust anyone to go and meet with that man, having already had her chance to sit down with him in a locked room.

"She's right," Maggie seconded. "She didn't know about the things that he'd done when she came here last."

"She's trying to help," Carol added in from the background. No one hated Andrea, not entirely anyway, but there was not the same trust that had been there before they split. Even Michonne, who'd gotten close with Andrea over the winter and had spent time with her more recent than the rest of them, no longer felt the same trust and friendship that had grown between them.

"Andrea's always _tried_ to help," Jamie nodded, knowing that Carol was right. She was trying to stop them all from killing one another, but she was not going about it the right way. "She was trying to help when she shot Daryl in the head, she was trying to help when she came here the last time, but Andrea lacks the mental ability to process things. She's sleeping with a guy who literally bombed our front yard with walkers. A guy who had tanks of walker heads; she knows all of this, but she's still _there_."

"We're not going to convince her to come back," Rick continued for Jamie, having already tried to do so when she was here with them before. Andrea's mind was set. "She's determined to stay between us. To stop the inevitable."

"Can't lay our trust in Andrea," Daryl stated bluntly. "The girl's in too deep. Can't see what's right in front of her. Everything we've told her about this Governor should have had her hightailing it out of there. She stays, it's on her."

Merle, who had remained silent through the exchange thus far, heaved a sigh behind Jamie and Daryl. "Ain't nothin' gunna come of meeting with him. Y'all know that, right? Gunna go there, have a nice chat, bit of a pissing contest and then come right back here with nothin' changed." Jamie glanced back at Merle, taking in the darkened look to his eyes. Daryl had told her what Merle had said to him, talking to him about in regards to their relationship. She'd developed a grudging respect for the prick. And the group seemed to put up with him a bit more, surprisingly.

"I agree with Merle," Jamie said before she could choke the comment down. Daryl looked at her with slightly widened eyes, not expecting such a blunt agreement. "I think that meeting with him is a complete waste of time. I've met the guy; he doesn't care about how many people he has to kill. That meeting itself might just be a death trap. Andrea probably thinks that he's all for saving lives, but I know he's not."

Her hazel eyes were cold as she cut a look over to Maggie, whose face was soured as she thought back on the Governor.

"Ask anyone who's met the guy."

"I told Andrea we'd think it over. It may be a trap, it may not. I think we should at least consider what possibilities we have," Rick decided. "Nothing's gunna be made today, but we'll just think it over and decide tomorrow. That'll give us enough time to prepare for whatever decision we make."

Through the rest of the day, there seemed to be a weight that brought everyone down. Andrea's visit had removed any of the relaxed atmosphere that they had been able to create; the happiness at having Jamie and Daryl back together was short lived and the visit from Andrea had been just as dreadful as expected. She's even made a comment about Jamie and Daryl when she was speaking to Rick, curious about their past and present behaviour.

Andrea was surprised enough to flinch when Rick had gotten defensive and told her that the matters of their group were not her concern. He didn't need Andrea going back to Woodbury and the Governor, spewing all of their secrets or on-going events. If the Governor found out about Jamie and Daryl's hard times, and then their make-up, he could possibly use that against them somehow.

From what Jamie had told the group about when she'd met him, and what happened when he confronted Glenn and Maggie, Rick wouldn't put mind tricks passed the Governor's considerations.

They continued through their daily ritual, carefully prepping the prison in the case of an attack—while avoiding anyone that might be able to see them from the outside. When on watch, the person outside was vigilant and alert, constantly wondering about who could be watching them. Even Judith seemed to fuss a bit more than usual, as though she had picked up on the group's distress and it was unnerving her as well.

Deciding that Beth deserved a break, Jamie had taken the baby and had her sitting on her lap, facing outward, with little Judith leaning back against Jamie's chest. Daryl was nearby, cleaning and polishing his arrows. Some of them had begun to crack or splinter and he knew that he'd have to either make more, or try and find a store that had hunting arrows that fit his crossbow model.

"Damn it," he cussed in a low voice when he discovered another ruined arrow, the crack along the shaft too deep for him to salvage.

"We'll get you something on the next run out. There're some hunting lodges in the area, so we might have some luck," Jamie assured, running her fingertips through Judith's soft hair as she lulled back against Jamie, beginning to fall back asleep. She'd been fascinated with Jamie's hands for the past half-hour, forgetting and rediscovering them several times and finding amusement by sticking her fingers in her mouth and gumming at them.

"Won't be needing arrows if the Governor comes knockin' anyway," Carol said as she came through the door to the cellblock, having finished her watch for the day and leaving it to Rick and Carl. "Hello, Judith," Carol cooed when she leaned in front of the baby, getting a sleepy giggle from her. "Hello little one."

"Ass-kicker," Daryl corrected, getting a scolding but amused glare from Carol while Jamie snorted in amusement. Judith, however, squealed happily at hearing the familiar name and it made Jamie outright laugh.

"Look at what you did," she accused. "You've given her a complex!"

Daryl scoffed with a snap of his head, flicking the hair from his eyes. "Growing up in the fuckin' apocalypse, I'd be surprised if that was all the kid got."

"Hush, you, Judith will be a saint," Jamie teased, pressing a loud kiss to the top of Judith's head. She looked up at the feeling of someone touching her head and letting out a cooing laugh when she looked up at Jamie, eyes wide and innocent. It melted Jamie's heart. "You've got the best family anyone could have," she whispered to the baby, beginning to rock her body from side to side as she wrapped Judith in her arms, keeping her close and safe. "People that would kill for you, die for you. Like you're mum. I have a feeling you'll take after your mum."

Daryl reached over with a clean hand and stroked one knuckle along Judith's soft cheek. "Nah, growing up around here, she'll take after Beth."

Carol and Jamie grinned in agreement. Beth looked after the baby the most, becoming a surrogate mother. Rick seemed thankful, though, since he was most often busy with the responsibilities of the prison and the group. Since he had sworn to be the leader, no longer giving choice to anyone else, he had only become more burdened than ever.

"Couldn't have a better role-model," he added on, glancing over to where Beth was with Maggie, preparing an evening meal for the group. She was smiling as she spoke with her sister, lighting up her youthful face. It always helped everyone to breathe a little easier when the younger members of the group seemed to have some spark of happiness in their eyes.

They sat down together and ate, everyone remaining relatively quiet during the meal. Carol took some food out to Carl and Rick, but everyone else just stayed clustered in their own little pairings of people. Everyone looked over in surprise at least once to see Merle with Jamie and Daryl, the younger Dixon brother sitting in between the two in-laws. They may have come to a silent truce, but that didn't mean they got along any better.

Maggie and Glenn actually found it to be quite amusing to sit and watch the three when they fell into an argument about tuning Daryl's bike and how best to go about it with their limited tools. It mostly ended as a match between Jamie and Merle, Merle gaining the upper hand with his knowledge for the bike and how to fix it, but Jamie had a better way with words and used that as an advantage to throw him for a loop.

"They fight like siblings," Maggie commented quietly to Glenn when the two leaned back behind Daryl to see one another better, their voices rising.

"I think Daryl's getting ready to knock their heads together," Glenn replied with a faint grin, watching Daryl's shoulders hunch in annoyance at the two on either side of him.

"How are you supposed to fix it with one hand?"

"Can do better with one than you can do with both, Jay-Jay."

"I told you to _stop_ calling me that!"

Hershel was the first to start chuckling from the other side of the room, unable to push aside the amusement at watching the two anymore. Jamie's cheeks were flushed with anger and Merle seemed like he too was getting redder in the face at facing off with the woman. They went quiet at the sound of someone laughing and looked over to where Hershel was still chuckling, looking down at the table top. Everyone else was grinning around him, flicking glances over to the Dixons now and then.

Glancing between Merle and Hershel, Jamie finally rolled her eyes and turned herself in her seat to face forward, leaning herself against Daryl's side. Even when he looked over to her, there was mirth in those baby blues that made her smile back.

He was still hunched in annoyance, though. However, he was just relieved that they hadn't tried to strangle the other yet.

After Hershel had broken the barrier in the room, everyone started to have their own open conversations. Hershel and Merle even struck up a conversation at some point, but everyone wisely paid it no mind. It was easier to accept Merle when they weren't on edge around him all the time; they didn't trust him, but being too wary of him took too much energy.

The daylight soon faded quickly and with it the energy of the prison occupants. Jamie had intended to take apart her handgun, but as soon as the light disappeared from the windows she just wanted to rest. There was always the option of using a gas lamp or flashlight, but after she reclined back on the bed she and Daryl were sharing, she knew that she would be hard pressed to get up again. Having only removed her boots when lying down, she was still fully dressed and lying comfortably on her side when Daryl entered their cell, leaning his crossbow against the side of the bed.

"You look beat," Daryl said as soon as he noticed the absolutely relaxed posture that Jamie was lying with. She was still lying on top of their blankets, but her sweater was pulled tight around her torso.

"I don't know why I'm so tired," she answered in a low voice, sounding even more fatigued than she looked. "I got more sleep in the past two days than in a week."

"You're oversleeping, overcompensating," Daryl answered as he sat on the edge of the single bed, shucking off his leather vest. Jamie adjusted her head on the pillow to look up at him and watch his movements sleepily. "You'll adjust."

"You're spoiling me," she teased, her eyes blinking slowly as she tried to keep herself awake.

Kicking off his boots, Daryl reclined next to Jamie, facing her, and took her hand gently. She had always had rougher hands, not afraid of doing physical work, but her hands were now heavily calloused and Daryl found himself wishing that she didn't have to work so hard. After so many years of being the one to do the manual labour, offering to fix things for her before Jamie got the chance made it hard to fall away from those habits now.

He knew that Jamie was strong and capable, but he still wanted to be the one to protect her.

Drawing her closer to his body, away from the cold stone wall behind her, Daryl pressed his lips to her forehead as her arm slipped around his body, taking in his warmth.

Elsewhere in the cellblock, Beth began to softly hum as she soothed Judith to sleep alongside the rest of the people in the prison. It was a familiar tune, one that Beth had hummed for the baby every night to put her to sleep since the first night that she had been alive. It was a song that they all knew by that point, falling asleep to the song just as easily as the newborn baby.

Jamie smiled softly as she felt Daryl begin tapping at her back softly, following the tune that Beth was humming. It was a haunting echo throughout the prison, but so soothing and calm. It was a collision with the chaos that they were faced with throughout the rest of the day, but at night it was also time to let go of the day, the stress and the troubles. Anything in her body that had remained tense before that moment let go, relaxing fully. Almost inaudibly, Jamie began to hum the tune alongside Beth, into Daryl's neck.

The prison, for once, was peaceful.

Daryl's stubble scratched her cheek as he shifted his head, resting his forehead against her temple as he listened to the soft notes that she was humming. It faintly reminded him of all the days that he heard her humming along to the radio in his truck or the speakers in her apartment when she was working or cleaning.

It was those little things that he noticed the most these days.

Once, she hummed when cleaning her apartment, but now he heard her humming when she was cleaning her gun. As much as he had always loved her tougher attitude to things, he sometimes missed when she would hum as she cleaned her kitchen after making them breakfast. He remembered one time when she made them thanksgiving dinner, just a small one between the two of them, which had taken her all morning and afternoon. He'd sat with her as the two of them waited for the turkey to cook, Jamie's legs draped over his lap with a coffee in her hands. They joked and laughed, smiled and basked in the presence of the other.

She had been healthy and glowing, her cheeks rounded and flushed with happiness. They weren't hollow like they were now, her eyes lacking some of that clarity and warmth like the sun.

Now, Daryl stroked along the span of her cheek, feeling the dimple that was caused when she smiled. Her skin was slightly chilled from being in the prison, the air growing colder now that it was nearing autumn. Moving his fingertips to beneath her eye, the skin no longer dark and loose, proved to him how tired she was. In only a couple of days, she had regained most of her health in regards to her sleep schedule.

"I'm fine now," she whispered against his skin, knowing what he was thinking. "I promise."

"I know," he mumbled back. "But I'm going to be keeping an eye on you," he warned tauntingly, feeling her smile widen against his neck.

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

It was short minutes later and Jamie was already asleep, not having done more than twitch while remaining curled against Daryl. The prison had grown dark with night, blackening out all the detail of everyday life and leaving only the barest forms behind. Glancing to the side, Daryl could barely make out Jamie's face. He could see the echo of light off of her pale skin and blonde hair, but he couldn't make out the wisp of her eyelashes over her cheeks, or the shadows that he was sure to find beneath.

Daryl was almost, almost, afraid to touch her. He knew that if he did, the mirage that the darkness created would fade away and he would feel the hollow of her cheeks, the thinness of her limbs that he had never known before the world hit its most despairing point. He was almost afraid to hug her, to cradle her body, and feel the bones that protruded through her thinned flesh. However, at the same time he was terrified of never holding her again.

When he had left, returned and had to watch her leave him behind, Daryl had been terrified that that was it. That it was all going to end for him, for them. Jamie had never turned her back on him before, in any sense. In her defense, he knew that he deserved it. To be shown what it felt like when the person you love voluntarily pushed you away, turned their back on you with full conviction. He'd done it to her, so he deserved the pain that it gave him when she returned the gesture.

What had brought everything to a head was when Rick had told him he'd kissed her. Daryl had already decided—with the help of Merle's rather surprising brother-to-brother pep-talk—that he was going to talk to Jamie before she could push his further aside. But to know that another man, even though it wasn't meant romantically, had kissed his wife left no further hesitation inside of Daryl.

Turning his face into Jamie's hair, Daryl held her tightly as he inhaled the scent of sweat, earth and metal. He noticed that every time she went on watch or spent any extended amount of time with a gun, she smelled like metal. It was something new for Daryl, but at the same time it forced him to realize that she wasn't the person she used to be; she was so much more now. But she was still Jamie. She was still the woman that he could hold in his arms, with soft blonde hair and that faint smell that she had always carried with her.

Jamie exhaled softly against Daryl's throat, continuing to sleep soundly. In the silence that had fallen over the cellblock, her light, peaceful breathing was all he could hear.

Carefully shifting in place, Daryl turned onto his side so that he was facing his wife, her arm falling from across his chest to his side. He could feel the vivid change in warmth, where her arm had once been suddenly feeling so cold in comparison to before. Edging closer to her, Daryl lay chest to chest with Jamie as he let her breath fan against his face gently, reminding him that she was there and she was alive.

Closing his eyes, he reveled in the knowledge.

She was alive, safe and directly in front of him. Pulling her flush against his body, Daryl exhaled heavily. It felt like he had lifted the world from his shoulders, relieving a heavy, burdening weight that had slowly been making it harder and harder to breathe.

With his warmth so close, Jamie edged in closer to Daryl, tangling their legs together as she burrowed herself into his arms, against his chest. Unknown to Daryl, she had done the same thing the night Rick gave her the blanket Daryl had been using as a pillow, snagging it from their bed before the redneck realized. She had curled herself into the blanket, the familiar smell, and had tried to sleep peacefully. But there was something missing—the real thing.

As much as people tried to trick the mind, it was a difficult task.

The tricks were no longer needed, the lies to the mind that never really worked. There was finally a reason to sleep peacefully.

However long that may last.


	25. Cat and Mouse

Jamie felt restless in the car as she circled the area with Hershel in the passenger seat beside her, both keeping out a careful eye for signs of movement. So far, they were the only things out there. They'd already dropped Rick off near the building and Daryl had taken his bike, so they were left to circle the perimeter of the old mill. Whenever she was told to observe something, she was always tense while doing so—knowing that to expect if she found something only made it that much worse.

Letting out a long sigh, Jamie glanced to Hershel at her side. He shook his head silently. Nodding to herself, Jamie turned the wheel sharply and made her way back to the road that led to the front of the abandoned mill. She never stopped her attention from spanning out, checking for any sign of someone else approaching the place, but Hershel signaled her to slow when he spotted Daryl making his way out from around the building.

Rolling down the window as she pulled up beside him, she could see the aggravation in his stance already. Some might say that he was just on edge, but Jamie could see that he was _irritated_ with something.

"He's already in there," Daryl explained, speaking of the Governor. "Just sat down with Rick."

"Fucker," Jamie hissed out, glancing over to the open doorway that led into the mill. Once, she may have felt abashed to say such a thing in front of Hershel, but she was fairly certain he shared the same sentiment. "There aren't any signs of others around?"

"Not that I could see," he answered with a shake of his head, looking around them one more time for good measure. The only sound that came through the area was the wind through the trees or humming along the metal structure.

"We didn't see any other cars," Hershel replied from the passenger seat, speaking over Jamie. He could see the tense posture that Jamie had since dropping Rick off was mirrored in Daryl, neither of the two friends about to let Rick down. They were meant to guard the area in case of an ambush or attack, so they were going to do just that. Hershel was no fool, he knew that something was going on between the three of them—settled or not—but he also knew not to pry into the delicate lives they already shared.

"It don't feel right," Daryl commented in a low tone, looking from Jamie to Hershel. Jamie's face had been set in a cold stare all day, something that was expected, but Hershel was on edge as well and that was what concerned most of them. As the most peaceful one of the group, it was almost unsettling to see Hershel packing a gun alongside his crutch. "Keep it runnin'," he told his wife, his eyes flicking down to the engine of the car. She nodded her head silently, one hand remaining on the gear shift with the other draped over the wheel, tendons too taut to be relaxed.

Since he was outside of the car, Daryl was the first one to hear the crunch of tires on gravel, the sound approaching the mill. Tapping to hood as he raised his crossbow, Jamie and Hershel each grabbed at their handguns as they looked in the direction that Daryl had picked up the sound. Across the road from the mill, in the storage yard with all of the equipment, a rusted old truck came weaving through at a rather obnoxious speed.

Jamie glared through the windshield, her foot already on the gas with her hand still lingering on the gearshift, the other now wrapped around the handgun in her lap. The tires screeched horrendously as the truck was pulling to a stop, causing her to scowl more from the sound. She'd always hated when someone's breaks made that noise.

"Come on," Hershel prompted when the men in the truck made no move to attack. The driver was leaning against his open window, in plain view of Daryl's arrow. They clearly didn't mean any immediate harm. Shifting to gear into park before she cut the engine, Jamie was first out of the car as Hershel took the time to get his crutches and gun. Daryl was still standing in front of the car with his crossbow raised on the newcomers.

She watched calmly as each person filed from the truck, including Andrea.

"What the hell, why's your boy already in there?" Daryl asked first, breaking the silence between the two groups.

"He's here?" Andrea asked with honest confusion, glancing from Daryl to the driver of the truck, who didn't seem to have a care in the world as he grinned back at her.

"Not quite as in-the-loop as you seem to believe, huh, Andrea?" Jamie asked as she leaned her hip against the wheel well of the car, her gun in hand and resting on the hood. Andrea met her eyes for a moment, both women staring the other down with that familiar chill. Jamie remembered very vividly the promise that she had made to Andrea after they'd reconciled the first time.

She'd kill her if she dared harm Daryl again.

Andrea didn't grace her with a reply but instead made her way toward the entrance to the mill, leaving the rest of them behind. Turning away from Andrea, Jamie focused her glare on the others that she had arrived with, some wanna-be military man and a rather dorky looking fellow that was wearing Harry Potter glasses. She wasn't surprised that the Governor had someone like that working with him—all brains and no brawn. He was probably only with the Governor because he'd be dead without him.

Heaving a rather dramatic sigh, she moved to the hood of the car and hopped up to rest her feet on the grill. It was warm underneath her, not needed on the rather warm day, but she said nothing in complaint as Daryl stepped beside her protectively. He hadn't stopped staring the other man down since he'd gotten out of the truck.

"Maybe I should go inside?" Hershel finally proposed after a couple of minutes, Andrea having yet to re-emerge.

"The Governor thought it best if he and Rick spoke privately," the man with the glasses said before Hershel could act on his words. Jamie raised an eyebrow at him as she leaned forward to rest her elbows on her knees, Daryl making an obnoxious scoffing sound from her left. Privately? What, was Andrea a voyeur now?

"Who the hell are you?" he asked, rather annoyed at the man's interruption. He'd kept himself busy writing in his little diary for the longest time, and the moment that someone speaks he finally decides to add in his two cents. There was nothing about this man that made him appear a threat, hiding behind the other man as he used to hood of the truck as a surface to write.

"Milton Mamet," he introduced.

"Great, he brought his butler." Daryl's comment even brought the other man to laugh from across the way, even as Milton continued to scrawl in his notebook. Daryl was leaning against Jamie's side, still holding his crossbow in preparation for anything. She turned to give him a look, wanting to warn him against unnecessary insults, but knew that there was nothing much she could do once Daryl decided to be an ass.

However, Milton didn't miss a beat. "I'm his advisor."

"What kind of advice?"

"Planning. Biters. Uh, you know, I'm sorry. I don't feel like I need to explain myself to the henchman." Jamie's eyes snapped to where the man was leaning against the truck, casual as ever, and raised an eyebrow at the balls that he apparently actually had. He must have a lot of faith in either the man beside him or the Governor in the mill because Daryl straightened immediately, his shoulder brushing Jamie's side as he made himself appear bigger at the insult.

"You better watch your mouth, sunshine."

Jamie reached for Daryl, but he was already far enough away from her that her fingertips only brushed the back of his vest. The eyes of the Hispanic flicked between the two of them before he returned his soured look to Daryl. "Look, if you and I are going to be out here pointing guns at each other all day do me a favor; shut your mouth.

Daryl, already with enough incentive, marched toward the Governor's man with an aggressive gait. She didn't even bother trying to stop him, mostly because secretly she really wanted him to punch one or both of them. She didn't like the situation they were in at all, left to sit out with their enemy while Rick spoke with the Governor—more than likely to leave with nothing resolved.

Hershel, on the other hand, had a very different view on the present matter. "We don't need this. If all goes south in there, we'll be at each other's throats soon enough." The fatherly tone that he used seemed to dispel the tenseness of the situation, even though the men held each other in a stare down for a moment more.

Reluctantly, Daryl turned his back on the other man to return to where Jamie and Hershel hadn't moved. They may not have acted as outright as Daryl, but they were just as tense and on edge as him. When Daryl resumed his place against Jamie's side, she leaned down until her lips were brushing the shell of his ear sensually. "I like the henchman routine," she whispered hotly against the sensitive skin. "Rather erotic."

Her tone was too low for the others to hear, but Daryl could see the Hispanic frown as Milton watched them with calculating eyes. Behind his glasses, he glanced between the two of them before he looked over the illusion of Jamie's relaxed stance. Her gun was still in her hand, her feet on the grill of the truck in preparation to spring off at any given moment and her body-weight was shifted forward for better momentum. Daryl had placed himself slightly in front of her, showing the protectiveness that would get a challenger killed.

Rick may have been the leader of the group, but these were the alphas.

While Daryl focused on all things outside, his senses acute on the opposing men, Jamie was listening. She was listening carefully for anything from within the mill, immediately catching the tone of Rick's voice the moment it rose. It wasn't one of distress, but of frustration or anger. She couldn't make out what he was saying, but knowing that he was getting riled made her upset, made her eyes narrow at nothing while her head inclined slightly toward the mill.

Daryl knew what she was doing, keeping silent beside her. Hershel was simply waiting as patiently as he could, but he, too, watched the other two men that had been introduced to their little band of merry men.

Short minutes after Rick had snapped, Andrea emerged from the front doors with a put-out look on her face. All eyes went to her the moment she emerged, the blonde staring back at them all for a moment. Then, turning back to the mill, she grabbed the handle of the large door and pulled. Sealing Rick and the Governor inside.

Jamie let out a long breath, sounding a mixture of tired and frustrated, before she lifted a hand to Daryl's hair, stroking her fingers through the strands once before she hopped off the hood of the car. She couldn't sit still any longer, it was going to drive her mad. And to be so close to the mill, to helping Rick and yet closed off from him, made her feel cornered. Daryl understood the feeling, watching as she moved around the car, patting Hershel on the arm as she passed him.

Milton, seeing the actions from the woman, stepped away from the hood of the car with his small notebook still in hand. Daryl moved to intercept where Milton was walking, trying to approach Jamie, and halted the man in his steps. Even a fool could see Daryl's aggression when it came to people approaching Jamie, or even so much as looking at her. "There's no reason not to use this time we have together, explore the issues ourselves," the man said in an attempt at resolution, hoping to reveal that he meant no harm for Daryl or his wife.

"The boss said to sit tight and shut up," the Hispanic said from his seat at their truck.

"Don't you mean the Governor?" Daryl scoffed. Jamie barely glanced back at them over her shoulder, continuing her trek toward the side of the building to take a long look at the surrounding area. The last thing that they needed was for something to sneak up on them when they were having their own pissing contest in front of the mill.

The trees were still and silent, only the wind rattling the leaves creating any sound. The odd bird call broke the otherwise silent area, but Jamie couldn't bring herself to enjoy the atmosphere as she once would have.

"It's a good thing they're sitting down, especially after what happened. They're gunna work it out—nobody wants another battle."

"How exactly could you call that a battle?" Daryl countered, leaning back against the hood of the car where Jamie had once been sitting. He fought the urge to look back for her, knowing that she could take care of herself but still feeling the need to have the assurance of seeing her. He didn't need to go and give these two men anymore ammo than they probably already had, though.

"I would call it a battle, and I did. I recorded it," he clarified, holding up the small notebook that he had been writing in.

Listening to their conversation, Jamie felt her blood boil at the prospect of that man 'recording' the history of the apocalypse. The history of their group and how they attacked them. She tried to calm down, taking a deep breath and willing her arms to relax, her hands to unclench, but there was nothing that worked.

It was one of those moments when someone was 'blinded by rage' or 'seeing red'. They may not have been completely literal terms, but they were very apt descriptions to how a person felt in that kind of situation. Like one would rip another person's head from their shoulders with their force of will alone.

She saw it all in her mind again, from the shower of bullets that barely missed her and Hershel, to the mad scramble everyone was making to close the gates, to stop the walkers from getting any more of their land than they already had.

She wanted to break something.

"On such-and-such day, on such-and-such year," Jamie started, speaking loud enough that it intercepted whatever was being said in the group a couple of yards from her, "The Governor of the survivor town, Woodbury, shoots fellow survivor Axel, of the prison group, through the head with a sniper rifle." Eyes turned to her as Jamie began walking back to them, her face blank. Milton swallowed thickly at the cold look in her eyes. Once, he'd have described her eyes as looking dead, lifeless. Now, he would say they were burning with life, and with raw hate and malice.

He had seen dead eyes; _these_ were _not_ dead eyes.

Daryl felt his stomach tighten, almost like he was in anticipation, as she approached. He wasn't sure whether the feeling was due to the look in her eyes, or the words from her lips.

Because he hadn't been there.

"This then caused fellow survivor Carol to hide behind the dead body as the Governor's men began to shoot at Axel's body in the hopes of killing her as well. In the field, a man with one leg was lying in the grass in hopes of not getting shot himself. And then, the Governor ordered a truck full of walkers to drive through the front gate, destroying it, and flooding the yard of the prison, with two people trapped under gunfire, with walkers."

Stopping a couple of feet from Milton, he trembled faintly at the look she was giving him. At the story she was telling him.

"This prison was home to five men, three women, a teenage girl, a young boy, and a baby. One man died, others were injured. And all they were doing was living; finding solace in a prison of all places, to feel safe at night. But then the Governor took three of their people, sexually assaulted one, brutally beat another and threatened the third with the death of her family. When the prison group tried to rescue the three, the Governor pitted one of the men against his brother in a fight to the death, lest his wife be sacrificed instead. This night cost the life of Axel's friend, Oscar. A kind man just trying to live in a world gone to shit." Milton was pale under Jamie's harsh gaze and cold words.

No one dared to interrupt, to stop her verbal assault.

"Oh, how about a quote for the memorable day?" she asked with mock enthusiasm. "On such-and-such day, on such-and-such year, the Governor sat across from a prison group survivor in a locked room, and said " _I'm going to go down to that prison, and I'm gunna kill every single one of your precious friends. I know where they are now; and I'll find everyone precious to you and have you watch as they die._ " Good enough?" Jamie snapped at him, any fake kindness gone.

Her hand snatched the small notebook from Milton's shaking fingers, slamming it into his chest with more force than was necessary.

"Write that for your next history lesson," she growled down at him before pushing on his chest to make him stumble back. Turning to leave the small cluster of people again, Jamie's eyes fell on Andrea's hunched form, the blonde looking sick to her stomach as she lingered near the door of the mill.

The cold air around the group was interrupted by the rasp of a walker nearby, followed by the metallic clang of a chain-link fence that it had run into. Everyone with a weapon turned in the direction of the sound, searching for the threat. Jamie pulled the hunting knife free from her boot, having lost her sheath when Merle had hauled her and the others to Woodbury.

She wanted that damn thing back and it was going to be the first thing she went for when the Governor was eventually _killed_.

Daryl took the lead of their small party with his crossbow raised, the Hispanic behind him with a gun and aluminum baseball bat. Jamie didn't rush forward as quickly, Andrea darting past her with her small switchblade opened up. It almost made the hazel eyed blonde smirk in something akin the satisfaction, realizing that Andrea was left with a pathetic little knife in comparison to the weapons of everyone else.

Travelling with Michonne, she must have felt quite weak in comparison.

Leaning against one of the metal containers of the mill, Jamie watched in morbid amusement as Daryl lowered his crossbow and invited the Hispanic to take the first walker, even making a sweeping gesture with one arm that was far too extravagant and exaggerated to be serious. When the other man scoffed and did the same for Daryl, Andrea was the one to get fed up and charge at the nearest walker with her knife.

That got the ball rolling, apparently.

Sticking back, Jamie watched the walkers fall one by one as the men each took a turn showing their preferred attacks on the walkers. Andrea eventually made her way over to Jamie, standing near her as the two boys continued with removing the threat of the walkers.

"Do you have to do a battle cry every time to take out a walker?" Jamie asked in a tone of boredom, directing the remark to Andrea even though she never once stopped watching Daryl. She had a moment of satisfaction when he took the final kill, throwing his knife with expert precision.

"What?"

Jamie glanced over to Andrea at her annoyed outburst, seeing that she was staring at her with a raised eyebrow. Huffing a laugh, Jamie mock charged at Andrea after pushing away from the container, knife at eye level, and mimicked Andrea's earlier yell as she had been gouging her knife into the walker's eye. Andrea actually looked scared that Jamie was going to stab her in the face with her knife, but after Jamie had sufficiently demonstrated her point, she just pushed Andrea away.

"You've gotten pathetic, Andrea," she accused in a low tone, staring down at the other blonde. "And cocky, and self-righteous."

Andrea's jaw dropped open in shock and outrage. She looked like she wanted to charge at Jamie, push her or hit her for her words. "Who the hell do you think you are? I'm pathetic? I don't hide behind my boyfriend and expect him to come and save me!"

"I don't hide behind Daryl, I stand right beside him," Jamie countered. "And at least my _husband_ isn't a murdering psychopath that collected the heads of dead people, teeth still snapping away-"

Andrea's face darkened further at the tender subject. "You don't know what you're talking about," she interrupted, trying to step threateningly toward Jamie, to get into her face and appear tough, but being shorter took away the dramatic effect and only made Jamie sneer down at Andrea in satisfaction, not having budged an inch.

"See? Cocky," she pointed out, shoving Andrea's chest with enough force that she nearly tripped backward. "With nothing to back it up." Jamie had gotten weak before, sick and frail from not eating, not caring for herself, but she had been getting better. Stronger. Healthier. She'd prove it, even if it was to _Andrea_ of all people.

"I'm trying!" Andrea almost shouted. "I'm trying to settle this, to stop the killing! What have you been doing? Instigating it! What the hell was that back there with Milton?"

"That?" Jamie repeated, motioning with her still drawn knife to the site they had been standing in. "That was a wake-up call, because apparently there's something in the water down at Woodbury. If you really wanted to help, you should have done as Carol said and put that tiny little knife of yours into the Governor's head. The killing will only stop when the murderer is dead." Bending to tuck her knife back into her boot, Jamie was careful not to cut herself or her clothing. "Trying to organize this little peace-treaty was a waste of time."

"Rick wants all of this to end, why don't you?" Andrea snapped, arms crossing over her chest.

"I do want it to end. But, like I _just_ said, this is not how that'll be done." Taking a moment to just watch Andrea, Jamie soon shook her head. It reminded Andrea of her mother, disappointed in her when she'd done something wrong or bad. It reminded her of _Dale_. "When are you going to learn that you can't take charge of things, Andrea? People die when you try."

The other blonde's teeth clenched in fury. "I never killed anyone!" she hissed in outrage, face crinkled up in her anger and making her ugly. "Is this back to Daryl? When are you going to let that go? I didn't mean to shoot him!"

"But you still did!" Jamie actually shouted, the boom of her voice causing Andrea to visibly flinch back, away from her outraged counterpart. Resuming with a lower voice, Jamie glared at Andrea with unveiled hate. "You shouldn't have to defend yourself about almost killing someone, because you never should have taken that chance in the first place. You just had to show off, to try and prove what you couldn't actually back up. Thank God you had horrible aim, or you'd be dead right alongside him. I was _not joking_ about killing you, Andrea."

Grabbing the blonde by her shirt and slamming her back into the metal container, Andrea reacted on instinct as soon as Jamie grabbed at her and pressed her knife to the other woman's throat. Jamie didn't react to the threat against her jugular, didn't even blink. It was unsettling for Andrea, who was accustomed to someone shying away from danger. The people of Woodbury were weak and scared, making Jamie look like a monster in comparison.

"If anything happens to Daryl, Rick or my family and I find out that you had anything to do with it, I will put a bullet through your eye. And I'll make you stare down the barrel before I do it. I'll make sure you know I'm going to kill you."

The knife against Jamie's neck trembled, almost biting into her skin, as Andrea's body quaked. There wasn't a single hesitation in her words, and her eyes spoke of painful honestly.

"Daryl, Rick, aren't you spreading yourself thin?" Andrea mocked, her voice shaking more than her body. "The man's wife just died." Instead of Jamie getting angry and hitting her, as she expected a moment after the words left her lips—she sneered.

Jamie _sneered_ as she stared down at Andrea. "You're grasping at straws, desperate to stop yourself from drowning. But you're sinking, Andrea. Reaching out. Who would take your hand, now? The woman who willingly slept with the man who stripped Maggie bare? The man that killed innocent people?"

The grin that touched Jamie's features chilled Andrea to her bones.

"I'm going to watch you drown, Andrea. With Daryl and Rick at _my_ side."


	26. When I Am Human

What woke Jamie was the chill in the air. It was already getting colder outside, but when living in a stone building that was probably cold even when there was electricity to heat the damn thing, it only felt worse. But the reason this cold woke Jamie up was because she felt it to her bare skin. Jerking in surprise, she blearily registered the light from a lantern that she had carried with her to the office she and Daryl had found back when they first claimed the prison. Her eyes were fuzzy with sleep and her body ached from lying on an uncomfortable surface, but then she felt warmth.

Blinking away the sleep from her eyes, Jamie glanced back to see that Daryl was behind her, lying on his back with an arm draped over his eyes in his sleep. They had a blanket spread out on the floor, but the cold concrete still seemed to puncture their bones. They hadn't thought to bring anything with them, and falling asleep while still heated from sex made it easier not to have a blanket.

Had someone walked in looking for them, they'd have been in for a hell of a surprise.

She didn't even know how long they'd been there for, since the office lacked windows and the hallway outside was a black as the rest of the tombs. Sitting up groggily, her back cracked from the vertebrae realigning themselves after sleeping on the floor for so long. She never thought she'd think her prison cot to be comfortable, until she spent even the few hours she and Daryl had been lying on that floor.

Her loose hair tickled her shoulders and back, mussed and tossed from Daryl's fingers after he had removed the tie keeping her hair up. She was relieved that he had done so, taking away one of the factors that would have led to a headache upon waking up. Glancing back at Daryl, she couldn't stop herself from smiling faintly at the sight of her hair elastic around his thick wrist. It looked so out of place.

Then her smile faded.

She'd gone off on her own to think, just needing to be away from everyone else after they'd gotten back from meeting with the Governor. Rick had collected everyone together, the rest of the group that had stayed at the prison still none-the-wiser to what had taken place while they were at the mill. Rick hadn't even told those who accompanied him, preferring to wait until everyone gathered together to talk about what he had discussed with the Governor for so long.

_We're going to war._

Somehow, the thought didn't scare her. It didn't surprise her in the least, but she had once expected to be worried or scared at the prospect of going to war against the Governor. Yet she was strangely…calm. _Numb_. Maybe it just hadn't set in yet, or she was so accustomed to people dying that the reality of more death didn't upset her as it once would have. No one outwardly reacted, true, but she was the only person that had seemed bored on the matter. If anything, she was in anticipation.

Seeing the Governor leave, just walk by with that superior look on his face, made her want to scream. To attack him, rip into him with anything and everything that she had. She didn't want to leave a single piece of his flesh unmarked by her knife, her nails or her teeth. She wanted him to feel pain, agony, to suffer like never before.

It was that rage that scared her.

The only time she'd felt that was when Andrea had grazed Daryl with that bullet to the head. The overwhelming, blinding rage was one of the only things she clearly remembered from that moment. When she'd later been told what she'd done or said, she didn't have a clear memory of it. From the blood loss, she'd been told. But that rage that had powered her actions was so potent at the time, she'd never forget it. Forget the burn in her chest. The pump of adrenaline through her heart.

That kind of darkness didn't go away.

Drawing her knees toward her chest and bending forward, Jamie rested her forehead on the folded arms covering her knees. Her back stretched from the position, pleasant after her stiff nap. Closing her eyes, blocking out the soft glow of the lantern, Jamie tried to push those thoughts away; far back into her mind, where they could stay hidden.

But things like that have a way of creeping back into your life, when you least expect or want them to.

The sudden touch of a hand to her back had Jamie jumping in surprise, a strangled gasp issuing past her lips as she looked back sharply. Why was she surprised that it was Daryl touching her bare back, barely sitting up with his one hand outstretched for her?

Her reaction caused him to frown. "Wha's wrong?" he slurred, his voice thick and tongue still heavy from sleep. Reaching back to take his hand, Jamie was relieved that the smile she offered him was a real one. There was just something about a sleepy, groggy Daryl that always had her wearing a grin on her face.

"Can't make my brain shut up," she answered in complete honesty. "That and this room is getting a touch on the chilly side," she tacked on a moment later.

Of course, that statement only had Daryl's still sleepy eyes falling down to her chest and taking in the very evident reaction her body had to the cold. Even with her weight loss and slow regain, there were certain attributes that had not changed. One of which was her breasts. Unlike Merle, Daryl didn't have much attraction for women with large breasts—most of this is attributed to the fact that Jamie's were the first naked breasts he'd technically seen, even though it was by accident in her bedroom after she'd gotten her tattoo.

Looking back up to her face, there was a leering smirk on Jamie's lips and amusement dancing in her hazel eyes. Reaching out for her again, Jamie soon turned so that her back was to Daryl's chest and his arms wrapped around her, hands cupping over her chest almost tauntingly. His hands were warm, however, so she found it rather helped warm her chilled flesh.

The floor was as uncomfortable to lie on as before, but now her head was resting on one of Daryl's biceps, his arms crossed to leave his hands resting on her chest. She instinctively kicked her leg back, resting over his legs and hooking her foot around his ankle. The heat of his breath at the back of her neck was a warm and welcomed reassurance, his body the only thing keeping her from shivering in the chill.

All peace must eventually come to an end, however, and soon they were packing their weapons back into their rightful places on their persons. Jamie was wearing a sweater that was slightly too big but kept her warm in the prison, the material draping on her body. Daryl found such relief knowing that it was because of the shirt, not because of Jamie's figure. Those winter months, when he'd watched as her clothes become looser and less fitting because her weight was slowly disappearing, had terrified him more than he would ever admit. He knew that _Jamie_ was aware of the scare she had given him, but he also had a hunch that Rick had been completely aware of Daryl's deep routed fears.

Perched on the edge of the office desk, Jamie was pulling her hair back into a low pony-tail, her hair falling down her back in lose curls that had suffered bedhead after lying down for so long. Daryl was doing up his belt as he watched her, acting out such a mundane, simple task. The faint light from the lantern they had brought made her hair look as blonde as it had been before the winter, her skin as tan as he remembered when first meeting up with her.

Her arms were still up, hands working her hair into the tie behind her head, when Daryl stepped in front of her and took her jaw gently between his hands, the callouses on his fingers rough on her skin. Her eyes flicked up to his just before he took her lips in a kiss, claiming her bottom lip between his teeth and getting a sigh in answer.

Ignoring the fact that she had just fixed her hair, Daryl dipped his fingers into the locks of blonde as Jamie's roughened hands gripped at his wrists. The action was more her need to hold something and less to stop him from messing her hair.

Her booted feet hooked the back of Daryl's legs and drew him closer to her, stopping only when his knees collided with the desk. Jamie wasn't sure what had spurred the sudden kiss, especially after the vast array of them he had already given to her over the past couple of hours, but she would not complain or pass up the opportunity to taste him again. Ignoring the scratch of his goatee on her chin, Jamie tipped her head to slant her lips, changing the angle and feeling his fingers tug pleasantly in her hair from doing so.

One hand released her hair so that his arm could wrap around her waist, drawing her body flush against his. Her skin was still sensitized to his touch from their time together, making her shiver against him at the press of his warmth returned so close.

Knowing that they couldn't abandon the group at such an important time, Daryl gave a few more lingering kisses to her hungry lips before he pulled back. Jamie leaned forward, trying to follow after him, before she opened her eyes and exhaled slowly. "Tease," she accused in a tone that was very close to a pout, making Daryl smirk before he pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead.

"Gotta keep you interested, Angel," he mumbled with a subdued smile before he stepped back, pulling Jamie off of the desk in the process. She didn't stumble when her feet hit the floor, the clunk of her boots causing the only other sound in the office.

"Cut your hair," she teased in return, reaching up to tug at the long bangs over his eyes. "You'll blow my mind." Ghosting a kiss against his exposed bicep, she glided past him before Daryl had a chance to really react to her. His eyes fell to her ass as she departed from the room, leaving the lantern for him to grab, before he smirked and scoffed to himself.

She had to even up the scale, of course.

Entering the cellblock, there was nothing surprising going on among the other residents. If not on watch, they were working to prepare the prison for the Governor should it come to a fight. Carl was sitting with Judith in his lap, the baby facing sideways to look over to where she and Daryl emerged, while Carl loaded one of their empty magazine clips.

Judith gave a high pitched laugh, wiggling in Carl's lap. The boy looked up to see what had drawn her attention before a tight smile touched his features. "Hey, where have you two been?" he asked calmly, continuing his task.

Jamie to sit down beside Carl, wiggling her fingers at Judith to entertain the baby. "Just went for some down time," she answered vaguely. "Thinking over what happened with your dad and the Governor." Judith waved her hands happily, trying to catch Jamie's fingers.

Carl looked to her again, Daryl lingering near her shoulder as he watched her play with the baby. "What do you think about that?"

Hazel eyes flicked up to look into Carl's darker blue eyes. "If it comes to war, then we'll go to war," she answered evenly. The seriousness of her eyes mirrored Carl's, concerning her slightly. She remembered when she first met Carl after returning to the campsite that night, a scared little boy that cowered behind his mother as he tried not to look at the gore around him.

Everybody changed, she knew that.

It came as no surprise that Carl wouldn't remain that sweet, innocent boy forever. Not only was he getting older, stepping into his teenage years, but he was also being raised by only his father in a zombie apocalypse. Jamie would have been _shocked_ it Carl had remained ignorant or innocent throughout the entire ordeal.

It relieved her that much more that she had been the one to end Lori, _not_ Carl. It was never okay for a boy to have to put a bullet in his mother's head, dead or alive.

"Your father's a smart man, so I'll follow whatever decision he makes." Carl nodded along, understanding where she was coming from. Jamie had been close with his father from the time they joined the group, having met each other before they met anyone else that made up the campsite out of Atlanta.

Adjusting his hold on Judith, who was getting rather wiggly now that there were other people around, Carl carefully picked her up and offered her to Jamie. The blonde smiled and scooped the baby girl up, cradling her against her chest. Judith took an immediate liking to Jamie's hair, taking fistfuls of the curls that fell over her shoulder and trying to put them in her mouth.

"Hey now, none of that," she cooed to Judith as she removed her hair from between the baby's lips. "Last thing I need is to have to wash drool out of my hair," she added on as she tried to distract Judith with her fingers instead, hoping that she wouldn't start to cry because she no longer had her hair to play with.

Thankfully, Judith was awed by the moving digits and laughed happily while busying herself with trying to catch them. Sitting back down beside Carl, Jamie perched Judith on her lap and leaned down to blow a raspberry gently on her chubby cheek. The baby shrieked with laughter, small hands swatting at Jamie excitedly as the blonde let loose a breathy laugh. Daryl smiled from where he was watching them, perched on the table with his hands draped over his knees.

It was such a strange sight; Jamie with a baby in her lap, giggling happy, with Carl next to her loading handgun magazines.

When Jamie's luminous eyes looked up at him, shining with happiness, Daryl wondered what it would be like it that was their baby. If they had some day had children of their own. Watching her with Judith, he knew that she would have been wonderful with any child they had, no matter how much she doubted that. The thought of Jamie having his baby made his heart leap in his chest, but it made him fear as well. No matter who it was, whenever pregnancy came into the equation Lori would be the first thing coming into someone's mind. How she had struggled with the pregnancy, and how she had died because of it.

As much as he wished he could say he and Jamie had a child, a beautiful baby to call their own, he didn't want to risk losing her over such a thing.

"And there's Uncle Daryl, spacing out again," Jamie commented teasingly, speaking to the baby but making it so that Daryl and Carl could hear her no problem. The teenager laughed at Jamie's words, glancing over to where Daryl had indeed been staring blankly at Jamie and Judith, lost in his thoughts.

He actually blushed at the comment, causing Jamie to smile all the more as she took Judith's hand and waved at Daryl, giving him a wink to tell she was only joking.

The approaching sound of footsteps brought Jamie's attention to the cellblock entrance, watching as Rick entered with one of the black sniper rifles over his shoulder. She assumed he must have been out on watch until now. Smiling in greeting, Rick returned the smile hesitantly before he sped his pace toward her and Judith. Rising to her feet, Jamie easily passed the baby over to her father with careful hands, pleased at the peaceful expression that came to Rick's face.

When first seeing Judith, his reaction to her has been less than assuring. He hadn't wanted to touch her, not even look at her. Everyone had the same fear, that Rick would reject the baby because Lori had died in the process of giving birth to her. He had clung to Lori's body, but he hadn't given his baby daughter a glance.

However, after only a couple of weeks of being alive Judith had Rick wrapped around her little finger. She had them all wrapped around her finger. The people of that group would do anything for her, to keep their last hope alive and well.

"Anything exciting outside?" she asked Rick as she stroked her hand along Judith's soft hair, brushing it into the proper direction.

"Quiet for now," he answered calmly, adjusting his hold on Judith to one hand so that he could fix her shirt that had ridden up. "I think the lack of activity is what's putting everyone on edge."

Jamie nodded along as she looked back at Carl and Daryl. "I can understand that. Everyone would rather have something to do, instead of just waiting in suspense." She assumed that was part of the reason that Daryl had come to find her, had tried to keep his mind off of everything that was happening. She was relieved that he had done so, since it helped her in the same way. "On that note, I do believe that this would be the usual time for Judith's next bottle."

"I'll help you," Carl offered as he set down the loaded magazines. Rick nodded along and patted his son on the back as he was passing, running after Jamie like a boy runs after his idol. He had always found it amusing that Carl seemed so amazed by the woman before him, even back when Lori was alive and didn't want him near Jamie. Back from day one, when Jamie had helped to save the people who remained at the Atlanta camp, Carl had always snuck glances at the woman that was Daryl's better half.

He supposed it could have been a young boy's crush, but Carl didn't blush or get flustered around her like someone smitten would. Carl looked at Jamie the way he looked at Daryl, someone strong and fascinating. She was something new to him and he couldn't seem to figure everything out.

"You've done this already?" Jamie asked as she pulled out the open tin of baby formula, a clean bottle and the water it would be mixed with.

"I've helped Carol and Beth," he offered, watching as Jamie turned to light a small fire they had set up that enabled them to heat the clean water in a small pot.

She put the powder and water into the bottle, shook it until it was perfectly blended and there were no chunks left inside, the small amount of water in the pot beginning to heat up with steam rising from the faintly bubbling water. Carl watched the movements carefully, knowing that soon he will have to do the same routine for his baby sister.

"Why boil the water in the pot like that?" he asked with a frown of confusion.

"Instead of mixing the formula with hot water, shake it up with clean water in the glass baby bottle and then, when the water in the pot is hot enough, place the bottle in the pot to heat up more slowly. It won't heat the same and it's safer for Judith not to burn herself," she explained, putting the bottle into the center of the pot so that it was standing on its end.

"Doesn't that take longer?"

"Yea, I guess it does," she agreed with a faint shrug of her shoulders before tapping her fingers along the glass of the bottle to check how hot it had gotten. "But it's healthier this way. Easier to work with the formula when the water isn't hot. Mix everything up evenly, and then heat it up."

Carl was nodding along, listening to everything she was telling him. "How do you know so much about this?" he asked after a minute of silence. Jamie was keeping constant watch on the pot, making sure that the bottle didn't heat too much. "Did you ever take care of kids before?"

Smiling sadly, Jamie shook her head while glancing over to Carl. "No, I wasn't around kids that often. I had enough of a job babysitting Daryl and his brother," she joked, getting Carl to smile as well. "It was my mother, actually. She died of cancer when I was still a teenager and spent a lot of time in the hospital or in bed. Sometimes I would sit with her and read to her, or tell her something that had happened to me that day. She'd tell me about when I was younger, or a baby, back when I couldn't remember. She always had this perfect memory, able to recall details that anyone else wouldn't even have noticed at the time of an experience."

"She told you about all of this?"

Jamie picked the bottle up from the pot carefully, a cloth between her hand and the warm glass. She tipped the bottle to drip some of the false-milk to test the temperature of the liquid. It was slightly warmer than she felt was proper for Judith, so she placed the bottle on the table as she moved to blow out the flame beneath the pot.

"She told me about the first day she and my father brought me home from the hospital. I was their first and only baby, so they were terrified. My dad was scared to put me down, that something was going to happen if I wasn't in his sight. My mom was going through parenting books that were filled with notes and tags, trying to remember everything she could do right. But they didn't need it, because it's a natural instinct."

Holding the bottle out to Carl, the boy copied her actions from before and tested the formula on the inside of his wrist, finding it to be about body temperature.

"You learn what cry means hungry, what cry means diaper change. It just…becomes second nature," she finished before motioning for him to move first, going back into the cellblock where Rick was still holding Judith at one hip, talking with Daryl about the precautions that had been set up while he and Jamie were in the tunnels.

"Dad, can I feed her?" Carl asked with a note of excitement in his voice, drawing a surprised look to Rick's face before he nodded his approval and waited for Carl to sit back at the table before he gently placed Judith against one arm, Carl's other hand still holding the bottle that Jamie had heated up for him. Rick watched over his children carefully, helping Carl when he needed it, but mostly he sat back with a smile touching his features as Carl fed his baby sister for the first time.

Jamie moved to lean against Daryl as she watched the touching scene as well, a smile stuck on her lips as Daryl pressed a welcoming kiss against her temple.

He wanted to say something—about how great of a mother she would be, about how beautiful she looked holding that baby—but he knew that it was do little more than wound her soul. She was still tender about the baby and her existence; he could see whenever Lori was brought up there was a deep sadness that entered Jamie's eyes. She was often caught staring off toward the graves that had been dug for Lori and T-Dog, unable to actually visit them since the Governor destroyed the front gate.

For a moment, in their little atmosphere of peace, they were able to push aside the thoughts of the Governor and the oncoming battle. Rick alone knew of the deal that he could agree to that would end the feud, but in the moment, he didn't want to do it. He didn't want to confess to giving up the life of someone who had helped his family. But watching his son and daughter, he could push that from his mind for just a while longer. Looking over to Jamie and Daryl as well, leaning against one another with smiles touching from their lips to their eyes, he couldn't bring himself to ruin it.

No on looked over to where Merle was standing in the entrance to the cellblock, arms crossed over his chest as he watched the small group standing together. His face, for once, had no scowl in place. He was blank, unable to scowl at the happiness that his brother had, but unable to be happy, either. He'd never seen Daryl happy when it was the two of them, before or after the apocalypse. Even as a child, when Daryl had been young and tried to play like the rest of the kids in the neighbourhood, he'd never been happy. He'd only been trying to fit in.

Jamie, Rick, this group—they made him smile. They made him feel at home, welcome and with a place to belong.

_When were you ever a brother to him, Merle? When he was bailing you out of jail, or when you were too fuckin' high to remember that he even existed? What about when you abandoned him and left to let him take the brunt of your dad's anger?_

Merle wanted to be angry, he wanted to be vengeful, but he couldn't bring himself to hate these people as he had before running into them again.

He especially couldn't bring himself to hate the woman that his brother was hanging all over most of the time. There had been times when, yes, he had hated her completely. But then she had to go and bitch him out, make him feel like an ass of a brother. And of course, she had been right. After all he thought he'd done, he was still a complete ass to Daryl. To everyone around him.

He hated sentimentality.


	27. Scars on Bone

The day was giving way to night, leaving the already clouded sky to darken as the hidden sun cusped behind the distant fields. Jamie sat perched on the railing to the guard tower that they had reclaimed near the entrance to their courtyard, Rick at her side as they kept a vigilant eye on the area around them. "We're going to have to try and think about the coming winter," Rick was saying as he paced the short length of the balcony. "That cellblock's gunna get cold, fast."

"It's already cold," Jamie reminded him jokingly, reaching out to pat his leg with her foot as he walked passed where she was still sitting. "We can try and make a run to get more blankets, search available areas of the prison for additional supplies, but those will only go so far. I've been talking with Carol about trying to find a way to light bigger fires inside."

"Is that safe?" he asked first, understanding the concern that the two women had about lighting any fires in the prison.

"We're mostly worried about the smoke," Jamie explained easily, kicking her feet back to avoid letting Rick grab her ankle, as he was trying to do whenever she nudged him as he passed. "We could find something, like the metal oil drums everyone uses as garbage cans 'round here, and that'll keep the fire contained. We can't exactly crack a window…"

Rick leaned against the railing beside Jamie. "And depending on what you burn, there could be a lot of smoke." He watched the blonde carefully, finding himself paranoid that she would end up tipping back over the railing. "Do you have to sit there?" he finally asked her, getting an amused look for his troubles as she teased him by leaning herself backward, her ankles hooked on the bars to keep from actually falling.

"Aw, are you worried about me?" she inquired in a sickly sweet voice, continuing to lean back. It was a testament to her core muscles that she was leaning so far backward without actually losing her grip or control. If Rick was being honest then he would answer yes. And it wasn't only worry about her falling off of the railing, off of the guard tower, but in general. The fact that she was doing such daring things to begin with was strange; she was usually a careful person, even when doing something to tease a person like she was at that moment.

She didn't seem to have the same regard to precaution as before.

"Yes," Rick answered just before he snatched at the strap that crossed over her chest, holding her rifle at her back, and hauled her forward. Jamie hadn't been expecting the action and couldn't remove her feet from around the bar quite fast enough; this resulted in her nearly tripping face first into one of the walls that made up the room of the guard tower. Thankfully, Rick still had a hold of her and got her upright before that could happen. "Sorry," he laughed as he helped her right herself, finding her shocked, wide eyes rather comical.

"I guess I deserved that," Jamie mumbled as she adjusted the rifle on her back, having felt it shift uncomfortably when Rick used it as a handle. She still shoved Rick's shoulder when he continued to chuckle at her, fighting against a smile of her own. "Anyway, I was thinking that we could move everyone down to the bottom level of cells so that they wouldn't be affected if we do end up lighting fires. The smoke would all rise, right? Less concern if no one's up there."

"Are you sure people would be okay with just moving like that? I think they've gotten attached to their living quarters," Rick argued, even though he knew that she had a valid point. Together, they turned to face the forest that surrounding the prison, inspecting the foliage for any sign of movement.

"Well, it's either that or freeze, so…"

"Good point," Rick concurred as he nodded along. "We still have a couple of weeks before we really have to worry about the cold. We're just gunna have to iron out the plan a bit more."

Leaning her elbows on the metal railing, Jamie ignored the cold that reached her through the fabric of her jacket. "Don't wait too long," she pointed out. "It might even do for us to try and find other places throughout the prison other than just our cellblock. There's probably a library and other offices; smaller spaces are easier to keep warm than our block."

"We'd have to divide ourselves, I don't want that," Rick declined nearly immediately. "We'll figure it out."

Turning her hazel eyes to him, Jamie inspected the assurance in his eyes. He seemed certain of this, even though everyone else had their doubts. Nodding her head, Jamie said no more on the concerns. She trusted Rick; to keep them safe, to keep them healthy. It pained her to put that much pressure on him, but he was the one person she felt could handle the stress. She only wished he didn't deal with all of that stress _alone_.

"You know that I'm here if you need to talk, right?" she offered before she could reel in her need to assure. "You don't have to do all of this alone, Rick. You have a group, a family, ready to support you in whatever you decide."

When he looked over at her, she knew. There had been something bugging him recently that he'd kept bottled up and those words had only brought the thoughts right back to the surface. He looked haunted, disturbed by something. Jamie could only assume that it had something to do with the meeting that he had with the Governor a couple of days before. Turning herself to face him completely, Jamie offered her undivided attention. With her eyes fixed on him so intently, Rick suddenly felt that he had no choice but to tell her. She would be aware of his secrecy if he didn't.

"He wants Michonne," he answered at last, refusing to meet her eyes. Jamie blinked in surprise at the answer, her hand tightening its hold on the railing. "He says that he'll leave us alone if we give him Michonne," Rick elaborated as he finally looked to Jamie, suddenly wanting to know how she would react to the Governor's demand. She appeared to be thinking over the new information, her brows drawn downward in a frown.

"You know he's full of shit, right?" she asked blatantly, catching Rick by surprise. It must have shown on his face because she continued a moment later, leaning in closer to him as though she was sharing a secret. "You know that as soon as he gets what he wants, he'll get rid of us, right? We're the only thing standing between him and Michonne right now; if we give her over freely, that's the last thing he'll need from us."

"You honestly think he'll go back on his word, just like that?" Rick asked, wincing as soon as he had asked the question. Only when it had verbally passed his lips did he realize how foolish he sounded. Of course the Governor would go back on his word, of course he would kill them just like that. Jamie had seen his wince and gave him a look that said 'yea, you see?' and only made him feel like a bigger idiot. "Right," he mumbled out, leaning more heavily against the railing. It seemed to be the only think keeping him up at the moment.

Stepping up to him, Jamie wrapped an arm over his shoulders to offer what comfort she could. "You can't do it, Rick. Michonne saved us—Glenn, Maggie and I owe her our lives. And she brought the formula for Judith. She's a good woman, and you're a good man. You can't just sacrifice someone like that when, in the end, it might not even be worth it." Letting out a long, heavy sigh, Rick leaned into Jamie's warmth and assurances, feeling her tighten her hold on him. "We'll figure _something_ out. I promise."

As much as he wanted to believe her, Rick also wanted to believe in what he had been imagining in his head since the meeting with the Governor. One woman. That was all he had to give up in order to get the man off of his back, away from his prison and his family. One woman that he barely knew and it would all be as it should have been; safe and secure, where he could raise his family without having to worry about dealing with walkers or starving to death. He had been blissfully imagining the closest they could come to paradise and it was all slipping away.

In an action that surprised them both, Jamie began running her fingers through Rick's lengthening hair, almost as though she was petting a dog. It was shockingly soothing for Rick and he found himself closing his eyes against the feeling, letting Jamie brush his worries away with the tips of her fingers. Reluctantly, it brought him back to the day that they had gone back to his home town, finding Morgan still holed up there. It brought back the memory of her lips, her body against his. He didn't want to remember it, mostly because of the guilt that had immediately consumed him, but he found it remarkably hard to ignore. Jamie was a beautiful, strong woman.

However, he would never jeopardize his friendship with either her or Daryl by continuing such thoughts.

As she stroked through Rick's hair, Jamie continued to look out along the forest in the darkening day. A flicker of movement from the distance drew her attention for a moment, but when she looked closely, there was nothing there. The trees were still and there was no sign of a person, alive or dead. Deciding that it was a play of shadows in the late day, she returned her attentions to the stressed man at her side.

In the courtyard of the prison, Daryl was leaning against the entrance to the cellblock as he watched the distant forms of Jamie and Rick, standing so close together. He wasn't jealous, nor was he worried, since he was completely aware that Jamie was comforting a remarkably stressed out man. He had seen her do it many times before, even with Daryl himself, so he knew that they weren't going behind his back. He was relieved that no one else in the group was aware of the slight spat that had gone on between the three, keeping them out of their business. They'd only look at them all differently.

Had they known that Rick and Jamie had kissed, they'd probably look at Daryl with pity. Or at the other two in suspicion whenever they were near one another, such as that moment.

The important thing was that Daryl trusted Jamie, and after Rick's confession and apology he knew that the man had no romantic feelings for his wife.

"Someone's getting awfully friendly with Officer Friendly," Merle commented as he approached Daryl from the cellblock door. The younger Dixon brother immediately released a long, annoyed sigh at his brother.

"Unlike the skanks you dated, I don't have to worry about her openin' her legs to everything," Daryl remarked, getting a surprised, exuberant laugh from Merle.

"Ain't we defensive, little brother?" he snarked, leaning against the fencing beside Daryl. "You sure little Jay Jay ain't lonely? I mean, she has been spending an awful lot of time with your fearless leader." Merle just couldn't resist stirring up trouble, of course. Daryl shouldn't have been surprised that he would try something like this. He'd done it before.

"The last time you said she was cheating, she used you to practice darts," Daryl reminded blandly. He was still watching Jamie and Rick, seeing that they had stopped talking and Jamie was running her fingers through his hair. "Last thing you want is her pretending you're a walker."

Merle scoffed, but Daryl was telling the truth. She had been at the bar with a friend after work when Merle had found them, playing darts near the back. He'd accused her of cheating on his brother, in his naturally snarky way, and Jamie had just turned and took aim at him instead of the board. Her friend had just given them a look before going to get another drink, snatching Jamie's phone to call Daryl before she had ended up murdering his brother.

He'd arrived in time to take Merle to get stitches and for Jamie to be kicked out for attacking another patron. She'd walked out grinning.

Merle still had the scar along his cheek from where he had been grazed by the dart. Had he not dodged to the side, she's had ended up stabbing him in the cheek completely. For months after, whenever she'd seen Merle, Jamie had invited him to play darts.

"Best be careful, little bro," Merle ended, turning back into the cellblock and leaving Daryl by himself, watching where Jamie's hand had shifted to rubbing circles on Rick's back, the man's head tipped forward.

That stance wasn't of a couple trying to flirt, he didn't know why Merle felt the need to try and provoke him.

Daryl was already reclined in bed when Jamie slinked her way into their cell, trying not to wake anyone else that had already gone to sleep. She slipped off her rough jacket in exchange for a worn sweater, pulling it over her head while toeing off her boots. Daryl silently shifted over to allow more room, taking her into his arms the moment she slipped into the bed beside him.

She smelled like cold, autumn air and metal. Her body was trembling just slightly from the chill that she had brought in with her, but they quickly decreased within seconds of being in Daryl's arms, his higher body temperature enveloping her beneath the thin blanket on their bed.

"How's he doin'?" Daryl asked in a low, gruff tone.

"I wouldn't want to be in his shoes," Jamie answered, knowing that he was refereeing to Rick. "All we can do is help when we can."

Letting out a long exhale, Daryl nodded against her hair before he shifted to lean back against the wall, Jamie pressed to his front as her breaths ghosted his neck. Within minutes she was dozing, her body lax in his hold. He was relieved to know she was sleeping more easily these days, even after everything that had already happened with the Governor. She was letting her body get the rest that it pressed her for so often, which she unfortunately denied for herself.

Guiding her head into the crook of his neck, Daryl inhaled the scent that clung to her hair deeply as he allowed his own body to succumb to the will of sleep.

It felt like he had only closed his eyes when he felt Jamie shift beside him, trying to burrow herself into his chest as the sunlight streamed through the windows across the way. Her forehead was creased with her frown as she desperately tried to hide in his shirt, making his lips twitch in amusement. She probably wasn't even awake, but it was hard to tell.

"Angel," he grumbled out, sounding tired and mildly cranky at being woken. She didn't even twitch. "Angel," he tried again, tightening his hold on her this time in hopes that a physical stir would wake her up. As soon as her chest decompressed with a long exhale, he knew he'd done it. "Mornin'."

Grunting her answer, Daryl huffed a laugh before he rolled suddenly, taking Jamie by surprise as he rolled on and over her, stepped down off of the bed and leaving her lying alone. "No, get back here," she called tiredly, catching the material of his pants to try and stop him before he got too far. Daryl went to her, but only to fix the blankets over her. "Where you goin'?"

"I've got watch," he answered. "Gotta switch with Glenn."

Grumbling again, Jamie released his pants and turned her face toward the pillow, still keeping her eyes closed in her attempts to block the light. Daryl leant down to press his lips against her temple, finally tempting her enough to turn her face up to him and catch a quick kiss to the lips as well. "Be careful," she mumbled through her half-asleep state, causing Daryl to linger a moment longer.

He wanted to curl back up beside her, return to sleep with her in his arms.

However, he found the willpower to pull himself away from her, leaving his wife slumbering deeply. He only hoped that no nightmares visited her while he was gone, but he would leave himself to believe that she wasn't going to sleep that much longer anyway.

And he was right. It was less than an hour later and Jamie was up with the rest of them. Sitting with Carol as she was eating, she was only half focusing on what the other woman was saying; her mind was more on the discussion she'd had with Rick the day before. There had to be a way that they could make things work. She definitely wasn't about to let Rick hand Michonne over to the Governor, she had done too much good for them and even Rick realized this.

"The nights are starting to get colder," Carol said in a concerned enough tone that it drew in Jamie's full attention once more.

"I was talking about it with Rick yesterday. So far the best thing we can think of is stock up on blankets and keep the smaller fires lit in the block. If we light bigger ones we'll have to move the people from the upper level to the bottom because of the smoke."

"That seems like a fair idea," Carol agreed, sipping at the heated water and stale tea that had been brought back from one of their runs out.

Nodding her agreement, Jamie leaned her elbows on the table before resting her chin on her raised, chilled fists. "It's only temporary, though. Last winter we were somewhere smaller, compact, with windows that we could open in order to let out the smoke. That's not an option this time."

"What about the offices, library and other resources in the prison?"

"I suggested the same thing," Jamie answered, but her tone was negative. "Rick doesn't want everyone separated like that and I have to agree with him."

Carol looked solemn, but there was agreement in her eyes as she reluctantly let the idea drop. "For now we'll have to search the available sections of the prison to see if we can find better blankets, or more of them. We could even go to the other cell blocks to take the blankets from those bunks and start doubling up."

Jamie nodded along as she looked around at the lingering people in the cellblock. "We'll do that soon. My main concern right now is the Governor. Nothing was settled from their meeting; it's a matter of time before he strikes against us." Her expression soured as she said it but she didn't look concerned about having to face the Governor. It was more like it left a bad taste in her mouth just to talk about the man.

Carol didn't like the expression on the blonde woman's face; it unnerved her slightly and worried her more than Jamie's momentary break after Lori's death. "How are you and Daryl doing?" she asked, leading the conversation to safer territory.

Thankfully, it worked. Jamie smiled faintly as she thought about the rugged man and directed that smile over to Carol. It was easy to tell what the other woman was doing and she didn't really mind. The distraction was welcomed. "Fine. We're doing just fine. Sorted through everything and got it off our chests."

"Sorted things out?" Carol repeated with a sly grin touching her lips, causing Jamie to let out a rough laugh, understanding her insinuations perfectly.

"That, too," she answered, getting a blushing grin from Carol.

Rick walked in from the cellblock entrance, his stride somewhat hurried. "You seen Merle?" he asked the two women when he spotted them, stopping at the table that they were occupying.

"He was over in the other cellblock," Carol answered, getting a confused look from their leader.

"He's looking for cocaine," Jamie explained in a tired voice, lifting a hand to rub at her face. "He's been mumbling about getting high since I woke up." Rick looked somewhat annoyed at the answer, but it wasn't exactly a surprise to hear what the junkie was doing. Merle had been high when he'd first met him in Atlanta. "Apparently he was asking Carol about alcohol, too."

"The man's got no shame," Carol tutted like an annoyed mother, but Jamie just snorted.

"We already knew that. He tried to use my apartment building for a drug exchange once. I ran him out with a baseball bat before the dealer could even get there."

Rick looked down at Jamie with an intense stare. "You never cease to amaze me," he mumbled. It make Carol chuckle from across the table while Jamie just shrugged before crossing her arms across her chest.

"When you take his shit long enough to learn that you have a backbone. I'd never really been a pushover before I met Merle and I sure as well didn't put up with people using me for illegal things like that. Merle learned real fast that I wasn't going to shy away from him like most of the women that he came across. I knew how to throw a mean right hook and I used to carry some kind of weapon at all times."

"Were you licenced to have a gun?" Rick asked curiously. She'd been a good shot from the day he met her, but he didn't know if she'd learned that before or after people started coming back from the dead.

"Nah, nothing like that. Daryl wanted me to carry a knife but I knew I was in trouble if I got caught. I either carried a thick chain to swing at someone's face or the good old keys between the fingers trick."

Carol was shaking her head from across the table, perplexed at how easily Jamie knew to defend herself. When she'd first met her she was intimidated by the power that seemed to exude from Jamie, but now she was quietly learning how to give herself that same confidence and strength. She didn't want to be the meek member of the group that hid behind her friends anymore. If she was going to remain with them, and she had no intention of leaving, then she'd have to pull her own weight as more than just a cook or nurse.

"I'm gunna go find Merle," Rick said as he departed, patting Carol's shoulder as he walked passed her to get to the tombs that would lead him to the adjacent cellblock.

Jamie watched as he disappeared as her brows drew down in a faint frown of concern. "I wonder why he's looking for Merle," she mumbled, more to herself than to Carol, but the woman across from her nodded in agreement none the less. Then Jamie was rising from her seat, brushing off her hands on her pants. "I'm gunna go see Daryl."

Carol waved her goodbye as Jamie jogged up the steps to the exit of the cellblock, zipping up her jacket as the chill penetrated from the old, worn door at the entrance. There was no one else outside that she could see, but she knew that as the day warmed it would probably draw them out as well. It was starting to feel chillier inside the prison as the bricks and metal held in the cold and blocked out the warm sun that supplied the only warmth in the enclosing autumn.

Jogging her way over to the watch tower, Jamie easily slipped inside and began her ascent up to the top. Daryl must have seen her making her way across the courtyard because the hatch at the top opened up before she had even reached it. He appeared through the bright opening, offering her a hand as soon as she was at the top.

"Exciting morning?" Jamie asked as she emerged from the darkness of the tower's ladder passage.

"Boring as hell," he answered in complete honesty, causing her to snicker as she peeked out the windows toward the overrun courtyard. If they were able to remove the threat that was the Governor's watchdogs, they'd have a bitch clearing that yard again. Especially since they didn't have a main gate anymore.

"Rick was looking for your brother," Jamie said suddenly, turning back to Daryl as he stepped up to her and pulled her body against his, letting their body heat mingle between them. Daryl looked as confused as she had been when he heard this, glancing over toward the main building. "He didn't look angry or anything. He was probably going to ask him about the Governor."

"Right," he agreed, but he still sounded displeased to know that Merle and Rick were going to be alone. He was more worried that Rick would agitate his brother enough for him to throw a punch than anything else. Rick was able to keep himself calm, as had been proven when he took Daryl's punch with no contest.

Jamie leaned her head against Daryl's chest and exhaled deeply. The days just seemed to be so long and tiring now. It wasn't even because of dead people anymore.

"I think I preferred when we were running from dead people," she said suddenly, causing Daryl to release a huff of a laugh and rub at her back soothingly. "Do you think the Governor will try a forward attack like he did with that truck of walkers?"

Resting his head against hers, Daryl was watching the world outside the windows. He didn't know how to answer. The Governor was more than likely to do something like that again; he had more people at his disposal as well, and he was definitely going to twist his story to them to make the prison group seem like the enemy. Andrea had said he was gearing them up for war; they'd just have to be ready when they came knocking.

"We'll be ready," Daryl answered at last, shifting them so that he could press a kiss against Jamie's lips. Separating from him, Jamie looked up into his blue eyes, realizing that he was speaking with sincerity. He had faith that they would face this challenge and win.

Stepping out onto the balcony of the watch tower, the two leaned against the railing as they overlooked their yard. Jamie's eyes strayed over to where Lori and T-Dog were buried, a third grave left unused after Carol had been found, alive and well, in solitary block. "Damn dead things," she muttered, watching as they stumbled over the graves of their lost friends. Her face was set in a scowl as she said it, prompting Daryl to draw a finger down the crease between her brows.

"You're gunna get wrinkles," he taunted, trying to lighten her mood. It was still fresh on his mind the way that she had reacted upon Lori's death; her hands still bore the scars from the blisters of her shovelling the graves.

Jamie deliberated glared in a way that made the laugh lines around her eyes visible, if not exaggerated, and it worked to make Daryl snort in laughter. "You sayin' I'm old?" she asked in a cranky tone. Daryl had to look away before she made him laugh harder and that caused her to lose her focus and begin laughing as well.

At least his plan had worked. She was no longer dwelling on the graves.

"Wrinkles are the least of my worries; I just hope I don't go blind and have to read everything like my dad did," Jamie added on after she'd calmed her laughter. In demonstration, she held her hand away from her face, like she was holding a piece of paper, and made her eyes go really wide like trying to read something. Daryl started laughing anew as he leaned against the rail, nudging the side of her body with his.

"Stop it," he muttered through chuckles. Jamie grinned through her mirth as she leaned against him, feeling the heat that he seemed to radiate even in the autumn chill.

Hearing the sound of the cellblock's door opening, the two turned toward where Rick was descending the steps, turning toward the courtyard with a hastened stride. It looked as though he was trying to find something, glancing all along the side of the prison where junk had piled up over their stay there. Neither of the two in the watch tower said anything as they followed their leader's movements with their eyes until he had disappeared around the corner.

"He's up to something," Daryl finally muttered.

_Michonne,_ Jamie thought belatedly. Was he doing something about Michonne? Was that why he had been looking for Merle?

"He'll let us know when it's important," Jamie answered back, not divulging anything. She didn't want to lose Rick's trust by telling anyone, even if that person was Daryl. If he'd wanted the other man to know, he'd have told him on his own.


	28. Self-Destructing Spiral

"Hey," Michonne called quietly as she approached Jamie, the blonde still slightly dreary from just waking up. "Can I run something passed you?"

Jamie blinked in surprise, lifting her head. Her hair was messed from sleep even though she was already dressed, the tie that usually held it back wrapped around her wrist. "Sure," she muttered out finally, motioning to the other side of the table so Michonne could sit. The black woman did so without further comment, letting out a tired sigh. They'd all been having trouble sleeping lately, some more than others. "What's up?"

"I've got an idea on how to slow down the Governor if he comes back here," Michonne explained, jumping right in. Jamie perked up immediately, suddenly more awake. At her reaction, Michonne continued, "The entire courtyard fence is topped with barbed wire that we don't use. Take the wire down and nail it to something, some of the wood off the skids, and put them out in the field. It'll at least blow a tire if they drive in here again."

Jamie thought it over a moment, picturing how they would get it done in her mind. Soon, she was nodding along. "We'll have to have someone draw the walkers toward one of the fences, give us enough time to work."

"We can take the truck, load the wire into the back, drop it and leave. Won't take long, whatever walkers aren't distracted will be easy."

"It's only in crowds that they're a problem, you're right," Jamie agreed before she turned her head away respectfully, yawning rather loudly. She had slept terribly the night before, and it was because of the woman sitting across from her. Michonne didn't even know what could happen to her and here she was helping them out. She could have taken off after escaping the Governor and Merle the first time, but instead she brought the baby-formula to the prison and helped them get out of Woodbury.

Michonne watched the blonde woman carefully. She'd first heard of Jamie when Daryl had threatened to shoot her with an arrow if she didn't help them to get their friends back. Rick had said that Jamie was his wife. Looking down at her hand, an engagement ring sat on her finger but no wedding ring. However, that wasn't too surprising in the apocalypse. The first time she'd really seen Jamie was on the side of the road, after they returned from getting her and Daryl out of Woodbury, her face bloodied and her cheek nearly black with a bruise. And then she'd gone and kicked Merle in the face.

However, it was awkward on the ride back to the prison when the blonde had just sat hunched in the car, crying silently. Michonne hadn't realized the closeness of her and Daryl, but having seen Jamie's reactions to everything cleared it up pretty quickly. Michonne tried to push aside the memories of her own losses, but the agony that had been plain on the blonde's face broke her heart.

In the time she had been at the prison, she had seen so much of these people. Their pain, their happiness. It was strange to feel like she was slowly growing into this odd family, developing her own place that she was welcomed by them. No one trusted anyone anymore, it was just the world they lived in. But sometimes, you have to open up that little bit.

"We'll do that today," Jamie declared as her hands scrubbed tiredly at her face. "Daryl can help, and Glenn and Maggie."

"Alright," Michonne answered, somewhat subdued from her initial excitement about her plan. Jamie's fatigue made her eyes slightly red with shadows beneath, but it reminded her of that sobbing woman who had climbed out of the car a while back. "I'll let you wake up a bit more first."

Letting out a huff of a laugh, Jamie smiled at the woman before getting to her feet and heading out to find Daryl, who had been tugged off by Rick at some point after he'd woken up. She snatched her jacket before she left the block, knowing that it was getting to be too chilly without one. Just as she opened the door to the courtyard Hershel was making his way up the steps, one at a time with his one leg. "Morning," she greeted, holding the door open for him as he righted himself on his crutches.

"Not a very good one," he mumbled back to her, getting a strange look from Jamie before she looked passed them, where Rick and Daryl were still talking quietly.

Letting out a long sigh, Jamie glanced back to make sure Michonne hadn't followed her out. "He told you about the offer?" she asked quietly.

"You knew about it?" Hershel returned, following her line of sight to the black hallways.

"He's been stressing about it since we got back, but I don't think Rick has it in his heart to do it. Even explaining it to me he seemed like he was already prepared to say no. Prepared to face the Governor no matter what," she explained quietly, watching the other two men as they gradually drew apart. "It won't happen. That's not who Rick is, and he takes pride in his morals above most other things."

"That is true," Hershel agreed quietly before he made his way inside. "I only hope that's enough these days."

Jamie watched him disappear into the dark hall before she closed the door behind him, blocking out most of the sunlight. Turning on her heel, she faced Daryl. He'd spotted her as soon as he turned away from Rick and she could see that he had a bit of a scowl on his face. "You knew, did you? You know that he'd been offered that deal," Daryl declared as soon as he was close enough but minded the volume of his tone so as not to yell it out and expose Rick's possible plan.

"He told me the other day," Jamie admitted while taking a seat on the metal step. "He's not going to do it, Daryl. You know him just as well as I do—Rick won't kill someone who's not only innocent to him, but has done good by him."

"Why didn't you tell _me_ , Jamie?"

Leaning back, Jamie looked at Daryl a bit more carefully. He almost looked betrayed. It was true that she would usually tell him anything and everything, feeling that secrets between them were wrong. However, this was different. "Because as much as I love you, Daryl, and hate secrets between us, this was not _my_ secret to tell."

"You lied and told everyone you'd killed Shane, to protect Rick. Why are you protecting him this time?"

"It's like I said the other night, I don't envy his place right now. Can you imagine having to make this choice? Sacrifice one woman and we are all perfectly safe? _If_ the Governor holds up his end of the deal? I doubt he will, but Rick wants to believe that it could be that simple. But he's someone with strong morals, he _won't_ kill someone."

Daryl released a long, tired sigh as he fell to sit beside her on the steps. "He went to go talk to Merle about it."

"Shit," she cursed quietly, her head dropping down until it hung between her knees. "This is just ridiculous." Her hair, still left down, cascaded over her head and fell to hang like a blonde waterfall in the space between her legs. Daryl could feel the edging of guilt for snapping at her, now able to see that she was stressing out about this even more than Rick was—outwardly, at least. He'd noticed that she hadn't been sleeping well the past couple of days, but he hadn't thought it had to do with Michonne.

Sighing alongside her, Daryl leaned his head to the side and rested it on her knee. The contact seemed to assure her that at least he wasn't angry with her.

"Michonne has an idea, actually," Jamie continued, lifting her head so he could hear her properly. "She wants to use some of the barbed wire on top of the fences as a deterrent in case the Governor comes back here, give him a flat tire in the very least." Daryl lifted his head from her knee, seeming surprised at the words coming from her mouth.

"She thought of that?" Jamie nodded with a tired, bleak expression. "When?"

"I was talking with her just before I came to find you—I told her I'd bring it up with a couple of the others, try and get them on board, you included."

"We'll do it," Daryl agreed. "Hopefully it'll make Rick change his mind."

Daryl was quiet beside her after that, leaving Jamie slightly on edge. She didn't like when Daryl was quiet and patient—she was accustomed to him snapping at people, showing his anger when he was feeling it. She knew that he was upset with her, holding a secret from him, but he also understood why she had done it.

Hours later, they were venturing passed the protection of the fences in the back of the pickup truck, the barbwire defences of Michonne's invention sitting at their feet. Daryl hopped from the truck bed with Michonne, Jamie and Maggie following after with the wooden planks they'd nailed the wire to. They dropped them in the path of vehicles and along the road through the front yard, ignoring the walkers that Michonne and Daryl had promised to take care of.

Glenn left the cab to help with the last one, positioning it with the two women before Jamie whistled loudly to notify the other two they'd finished. She collected the arrows off two walkers that were nearby, having fallen a couple of feet away from them, before jogging back to the truck. Daryl met her at the tailgate, taking the arrows from her before he offered a hand to hoist her up. Michonne jumped up on her own and Maggie slipped into the cab with Glenn. As soon as Daryl had perched himself on the tailgate, Glenn was driving back to the gate up ahead.

Jamie held onto Daryl's shoulder at the truck's jerky movements, feeling the tense muscle under her hand as he tried to keep himself balanced and in place. Glancing over her shoulder, her hazel eyes caught Rick's figure passed the fence as he watched them driving his way along the path. Her throat felt dry and her palms too warm as she found herself hoping that it would be enough of a nudge to give Rick the answer to his internal debate.

She did have the hope that he would do the right thing, she did, but she also knew what it would mean to show him what he would lose if he made the _wrong_ decision. Michonne was smart and quick to think things through, someone that they needed. The woman was supposed to be sent away the minute she was well enough, and yet here she was, helping them still.

"Think it's enough?" Daryl asked in a low tone, eyes sneaking a glance toward Michonne at the back of the bed. Jamie didn't have to follow his attention to know where it was directed.

"I hope," she answered just as quietly, the wind carrying her voice away from the cab and the woman leaning against it. "I really, really hope."

With the gate shut firmly behind them those in the trucked hopped out, Jamie letting Daryl help her from the truck bed with his hands firmly situated on her hips. Rick was jogging up to them at a steady pace, one of the snipers slung over his shoulder.

"Try to drive up to the gate again, maybe some blown tires will stop 'em," Glenn said as he closed the driver's door, meeting Rick as he caught up to them.

"It's a good idea," Rick appraised, eyes on Glenn. Clearly, he believed it was him that had come up with the plan to use the barbed wire. Jamie opened her mouth to speak, but Daryl beat it to her.

"It was Michonne's." Rick's attention averted from the Korean, landing on where Jamie and Daryl were both staring at him with masked expressions. He knew how to read between the lines, and since it had only been this morning that Daryl had been informed, he knew exactly what the man was saying without actually uttering the words.

Then those golden hazel eyes turned to Michonne as the woman began speaking. "We don't have to win," she started. "We just have to make their getting at us more trouble than it's worth." Jamie took acute notice to the 'us' that Michonne had used, her head bobbing in agreement as she leaned against Daryl's side.

Rick was saved from having to say anything to her when the others returned from where they'd been in the fenced walkways, buckets and metal tools in their hands for distracting the walkers. He still turned his body so he wasn't facing Michonne before he gave Rick a drawn out look, Jamie almost glaring at him for ignoring the woman. However, Daryl's arm came around her neck, drawing her attention away from Rick as he nearly smothered her face into his neck. He didn't need Jamie getting into it with Rick just now.

"Let's get inside," Rick called over the group, turning to the cellblock entrance.

Jamie wanted to grumble as his blatant avoidance, but Daryl prevented her from doing so and simply nudged her along. Peaking at the hand he had at her shoulder, the one that had held her head when he'd been quieting her complaints, Jamie's lip twitched with a concealed grip before dipping her head. The others only looked back when they heard a supressed yelp from Daryl, watching as he pulled away from Jamie like he'd been burned. The smirk on her face told them it was entirely on purpose and the way Daryl was shaking his hand it didn't leave much guesswork.

Carl snickered in amusement as Jamie walked away from Daryl and his baffled look, drawing the boy against her side in a position that was much the same to what she and Daryl would usually do. She looked quite satisfied with herself, and the look she sent Rick seemed to warn him that if he didn't figure out what he wanted, she was going to bite him next.

As much as he was relieved to see her odd sense of humor was back, as well as her physical and verbal banter with Daryl, he wasn't looking forward to testing how comfortable she was with him yet.

Splitting up with Carl when they got to the cellblock, giving the kid's hair a messy shake that he loudly protested, Jamie made her way toward the tombs. She'd promised Rick that she would check them out sometime that day to make sure that there weren't any openings for someone to get through after the first group that appeared when they were away. Packed up with her knife and her gun, she wasn't too concerned about the 'if' she ran into something. It would be a bit of a long shot anyway, but she was prepared just in case. Better safe than sorry and all that.

Fishing the flashlight she had out of her jeans, a new one to replace the one she'd lost when Merle had taken them in the first place, Jamie checked each barred doorway for weaknesses. Most had their original, strong locks, but a few were weakened down or already broken, barely holding the door closed, so she knew she'd have to use some of the chains and locks they'd picked up. Counting out the locks and chain rows she would need, Jamie continued through the tombs until she'd covered all of the halls they had cleared.

It was haunting down there, so she was quite eager to leave. However, seeing Merle hovering over the supplies she needed made her want to turn back around.

"What you up to, douchebag?" she called over to him, deciding to just face him and get what she needed.

Merle jerked backward like he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, prompting Jamie to pause with her eyebrow rising in suspicion. "Little Blue Jay, what you doin' back so soon?" he asked casually, tucking his remaining hand into his pants pocket while the other arm hung at his side. She didn't answer or approach at first, staring him down as though waiting for an answer to reveal itself. "What?" he finally snapped, a glare falling onto his features.

"What are you up to, Merle?" she demanded tiredly, finally approaching to begin counting lengths of chain and locks to bring down with her.

"Now what makes you go and think that?" was the immediate, defensive answer. Jamie just gave him a deadpan look as she threw the ropes of chain over one shoulder, using a free bin to carry the locks. "Just because you gone and fucked my baby brother doesn't change shit, darling'."

"Clearly," Jamie drawled out sarcastically before she turned on heel to head back to the tombs, flipping him her middle-finger as she went. She did not expect for him to sudden grab at the wrist of that hand, however, and nearly dropped the bin of locks as she was tugged to an abrupt stop. "What the fuck, Merle!"

"What, just wanting to offer my assistance," he sneered out, drawing out the last word to mock her more refined way of talking. Holding up his hand as though showing his innocence, Jamie took a large step away to put more distance between them. "Come on, what else can I do around here?" he continued, motioning to the empty cellblock.

"Go find Daryl, I'm sure he can put you to good use."

Merle placed his hand over his heart exaggeratedly. "That hurts, Blue Jay-"

" _Stop_ fucking calling me that!"

"What, you don't have a problem with Daryl calling you Ang— _hey!_ "

Jamie took a swing at him with one of the chains that had been draped over her shoulder. She would have nicked him, but he'd leapt back before any damage was done. The dark, cold look in her eyes told him that he'd gone too far. If there was one thing that she would never put up with when it came to his nicknames for her, it was using Angel. That was reserved only for Daryl. Not even Officer Friendly used that name, though he'd heard 'Jay' slip through now and then.

"Alright, alright," he surrendered, losing the sarcasm in his tone as he actually showed his compliance to her. "I'll be good. But come on, I'm losing my mind here."

"Go sniff out some cocaine," she snapped, marching away from him at a fast pace. Merle watched her go, the chains over her shoulder swinging and rattling against the rifle that was also present over her shoulder. Squinting his eyes, Merle looked over the gun. It was one of the newer ones they had, in good condition and with how protective the guys were over her he would bet it was fully loaded as well.

Glancing around at the cellblock, ensuring that no one else was inside, Merle moved to follow the blonde that disappeared into the dark tunnels.

He made sure to keep back, following Jamie at a distance as she rechecked all the doors and enforced those that needed it. The only sound in the tunnels was the rattling of chains and the clicks of each lock as they were secured into place. Her new penlight was tucked between her teeth, illuminating the locks as she worked, and her knife and gun remained out of her hands. Just as she had always been since he'd met her, she worked quickly and diligently, nearly leaving him behind many times.

It almost reminded him of the time she was able to enter and leave his and Daryl's home without him even realizing she was there. At first he thought it was because she was skittish, then he found out she was just fucking quiet. She usually walked around without her shoes on, socks silent on the floor. In the beginning, she'd just used the window to Daryl's room, completely bypassing the door and any chance of running into Merle or their father. Though, thankfully, the men's dad was arrested shortly after she and Daryl really started hanging out.

Watching as Jamie looped one of the sections of chain around the bars, keeping an eye for walkers that might be on the other side of the gate, Merle clenched his hand at his side as he debated whether this was the smart thing to do or not. Rick wasn't going to go through with that deal, and then Daryl was going to be going against Woodbury in war. If there was anything that he could do to stop it, he would. Handing over the samurai bitch might just be the only option that he has.

But he needed a gun.

Everyone else had them stashed around the prison, and there was usually someone nearby to either keep an eye on him or their ammunition. Didn't leave him much room to try and get his hands on one. This was his only chance, and if it made Daryl hate him then so be it. He would at least be in one piece.

Jamie stepped away from the bars that she had just chained, wiping her hands on her pants when the dust and rust from the metal clung to her skin. That had been the last gate that she wanted to secure, and knowing that she was done left her feeling less accomplished and more…insecure. Having something to do made it easier to go about the day, now that she'd finished what she'd decided on for the day, she wasn't sure where to go from there.

Kicking her boot against the metal gate, a long sigh echoed through the otherwise silent hall.

Turning to head back to the cellblock, maybe find something who needed her help or wanted her to do something, Jamie barely had time to see someone else in the hall with her before a hand covered her mouth and pushed her back. She swore she could hear something crack as her skull collided with the wall of the tunnel. Immediately her vision bloomed white before black fogged in from the sides. Blearily looking to the person still covering her mouth, Jamie suddenly had the urge to bite into their palm.

_Merle-fucking-Dixon._

She went down fast after that, caught by Merle before she actually hit the ground, and he knew right then that she was gunna kick his ass when she woke up. All it took was the look of recognition followed by the 'you son of a bitch' glare that she had perfected over the years. But, one step at a time. Pushing the bin she'd had with her out of the way, Merle used his good arm to heft her over his shoulder, leaving her gun strapped to her back so he didn't have to try and carry her and a weapon with one good hand.

Jamie was heavier than he'd thought she would be—she'd looked too freaking skinny when he'd first seen her, but there was still a good amount of muscle on the blonde's frame. Grunting with the exertion he hadn't expected to be using, Merle turned to head back toward the utility rooms he'd been snooping around earlier.

The clock was officially ticking.

He needed to stash her away somewhere she wouldn't be found too soon, but also somewhere she'd be safe from walkers while she was unconscious. He didn't like the bitch too much, but he didn't want her getting bitten or eaten because of him. After dealing with her, Merle had to go and get Michonne. Probably draw her into the tombs so the others didn't get any idea of what he was doing.

Depositing Jamie on the floor of the room, Merle would deny to anyone that he was as careful as he could be when lying her down. He definitely didn't tuck something under her head so that she wouldn't be in more pain that already necessary upon waking. Checking the gun she had, he also took the handgun and ammo she was carrying with her. Glancing from his acquired munitions to the blonde, expressionless face making her appear to be sleeping, Merle shook off any further doubts and grabbed what he needed for Michonne.

Officer Friendly didn't have the balls to follow through with his plan, he knew that. Someone had to make the hard decisions in this fucking world.


	29. Let Us Now Mourn

Daryl was the one to notice something wrong before anyone else. There were two people that he was always very aware of; Jamie and Merle. And he couldn't find either of them right now. Realizing that he couldn't find where they could be in the prison also helped him to notice that Michonne was nowhere to be found, either.

"Rick!" Daryl shouted across the courtyard, the door of the prison slamming against the wall behind him as he rushed out. "You seem Jamie anywhere?" Immediately, Rick's expression pinched into a frown as his eyes darted quickly over the expanse of the yard he could see, as though she would be out beyond the fence for some reason or another.

"No, not since this morning. She did say she was going to be securing the doors in the tombs today, though."

"Already looked through the tombs." Normally, Daryl wouldn't have been too worried if he couldn't find Jamie right away; she was quick and quiet, sometimes he'd just barely miss her going down another hallway and not even realize she was there. But this time was different. "Merle and Michonne are gone, too."

The semi-concerned frown on Rick's face grew grave at the other man's words, immediate tension building in his muscles. His stomach felt like it was in knots, even more so than when he'd gone to meet the Governor. There's no way it's a coincidence that all three would be missing at the same time, no matter how big the prison was.

"You searched the tombs? All of them?"

"Didn't go far into the service area, Jamie didn't have any work to do down that way," Daryl explained as the two men simultaneously turned on heel and headed for the door that Daryl had come barreling out of only a short minute before. He took the lead into the tombs, Rick close to his flank as they rushed through the darkness with practiced ease. "I found Merle lurking around the generator rooms earlier today; said he was looking for drugs," Daryl explained along the way, making a sharp left that Rick followed easily.

"You think he'd have taken them both?"

"I can see why he'd be after Michonne, but Jamie? What's he need her for?"

The conversation wasn't helping the withheld panic and concern in the two men, nor the way the question hung in the air after that. Jamie wasn't wanted by the Governor, but Rick wasn't sure if it was past Merle to try and hand her over to the man to gain favor again. "No way he could handle them both," Rick tried to assure.

The door to the generator room was closed when they got there, but with no way to lock it Daryl just had to give a solid shove with his shoulder for the metal to swing open with a shriek of rusted hinges. The main room was empty save for old crap lying around and the dust floating in the air.

"Did he say anything else while he was in here?" Rick asked as he immediately moved past Daryl to look around the corners of the room, searching for any sign that Jamie may have been there. Or Michonne for that matter.

"Said a lot, actually," Daryl muttered, turning to the right to look around the larger generators, just in case Merle was trying to hide something from being found. Rick went to the left, checking the side room that held more stores of junk left behind.

The moment he saw the motionless body next to the supply shelf, out of sight from the main doorway, Rick's heart simultaneously leapt into his throat and dropped to his feet at the same time. "Daryl!" he shouted, sounding somewhat choked as he rushed to where Jamie was lying, wrists tied over her stomach and her head cushioned on a folded, torn sheet. One hand came to rest over her sternum while he sought out a pulse with the other, instinctively checking that she was breathing and her heartbeat was regular.

Daryl nearly collided with the doorframe in his rush to get around to Rick, his crossbow discarded on the floor in an instant. "Shit," he swore loudly, slamming to his knees near Jamie's head as Rick pulled back to give the other man room.

"She's breathing and her heartbeat's okay; she's just unconscious." The explanation barely soothed Daryl's worries as he cradled her face gently, flinching back when he spotted the red of blood in her hair. Rick used his switchblade to cut the wire-ties from her wrists, faint red marks left in their wake. She didn't flinch of react, completely out cold, as he gently rubbed his thumbs soothingly over the angry welts, prompting circulation to return.

"Her head's bleeding," Daryl grumbled angrily, realizing that Merle must have snuck up on her and cracked her over the head to knock her out. "Let's get her up to Hershel, she might have a concussion."

"He took her guns," Rick realized as he checked to make sure her ankles weren't bound up as well. They both knew that Jamie didn't go anywhere without at least one gun. "That's why he went after Jamie. Knocked her out so she couldn't stop him or warn us; got himself a weapon, too." Her knife was still in her boot, however, so at least Merle hadn't left her completely defenseless. That is, if he even knew that the knife was there; she didn't have the sheath anymore, having had it confiscated by the Governor's men, so her next best option was to stash it in her tall boot, the handle barely visible most of the time.

Daryl had never felt such overwhelming anger toward his brother; he'd done many things to verbally slight Jamie, even harassed her into nearly getting punched in the face, but he'd never outwardly harmed her to this degree. He noticed that he'd placed the sheet under her head, but that didn't quell the rage from seeing her blonde hair tinged with blood. A decent amount of force was required to split her skin like that.

"I'm gunna kill the fucker," he growled lowly as he carefully looked over Jamie's body for any sign of another injury. Thankfully, his search came up clean aside from the wounds that Rick was carefully pressing over on her wrists, returning the blood flow to her hands. Once satisfied, he carefully lifted Jamie from the floor—even though he was worried about her in that moment, he was relieved to feel that she was starting to get heavier again. "I'm gunna find him, and I'm gunna kill him."

"We'll worry about that later," Rick assured, picking up Daryl's discarded bow. "Let's just make sure she's alright first."

The trip through the tombs felt significantly longer than usual, Daryl needing to carefully manoeuvre Jamie's body through the doorways. Rick always kept a careful eye, watching to make sure that her head never slipped from where it was resting on Daryl's shoulder. It also made Daryl want to give Jamie a pat on the back for having carried Lori's body from the tombs; it was quite a distance and she hadn't been at her healthiest when the other woman died, and Lori had been at a healthy, pregnant weight—sans baby.

Rick rushed ahead of Daryl to unlock the door to their cellblock, holding the metal gate open for the other man. Hershel and his daughters were already in the ante-room, sitting at one of the tables as they spoke quietly.

"Jamie!" Beth gasped first, shooting to her feet when she spotted the limp form in Daryl's arms. "Is she okay? What happened?"

Hershel and Maggie stood as well, the former slightly more shakily as he reached for his crutches. "Merle knocked her out for her guns," Rick explained. "Her head's bleeding."

"Go lay her down," Hershel instructed as he motioned toward the cellblock. "Maggie, get my bag? She might need stitches."

While Beth rushed over to get the other door for Daryl, Maggie helped Hershel to grab his medical bag to follow. Rick closed to gate to the tombs with a dark look marring his features, knowing that Merle must be half way to the Governor by now, with Michonne in tow. He hadn't been able to do it—he couldn't kill a woman who had helped them, in many ways, and live with himself afterword. Did that make him a good person? Sure, he hadn't wanted to kill an innocent woman, but he also hadn't been man enough to put his entire group above one life.

Beth helped Daryl lay Jamie onto their bed carefully. She cradled the woman's bleeding head as Daryl placed her gently atop the mattress, taking the utmost care as he did so. With his eyes lingering on Jamie's face, thankfully showing no sign of pain, Daryl knew that he had to go after his brother. Rick would want to do it, he knew, but Merle was his blood brother and he was the one who brought him back to the prison.

"Stay with her, okay?" Daryl asked quietly as he looked to Beth, who was already angling Jamie's head to the side so her father could get a better look at the back of her head, which was still seeping blood at a slow pace. "I gotta go shoot my brother."

Beth's lips gave a faint twitch, whether to smile or frown Daryl couldn't tell, before she nodded. "Be careful," she whispered, knowing that Daryl was about to leave the prison again. She never liked it when anyone had to leave the protective fences. Something always seemed to go wrong when they left the grounds, and she didn't want to lose Daryl as well.

She doubted Jamie would survive if he died.

Daryl left just in time for Hershel to join them, nodding to the older man as he once more placed Jamie in trusted hands. Rick met him outside the cell, arms weighed down with his gun and Daryl's crossbow. "You're going after him." It wasn't a question.

"I'm the one who brought him here; that's on me. And you ain't coming with. Stay here and watch the prison, keep an eye on Jamie for me." Daryl accepted his crossbow when Rick held it out, swinging it over his shoulder and relaxing at its familiar weight. "You know they'll come back here so you gotta be ready."

Glancing back toward the door of the cell he shared with Jamie, Daryl watched quietly for a moment as Maggie and Beth carefully manoeuvred Jamie onto her side so Hershel could get better access to the back of her head.

Heaving a sigh, Daryl returned his attention to the other man before him. "You gotta be ready, Rick," he repeated, stressing to the leader of their group and one of his closest friends. He had a lot to lose if the Governor got this place. "You're family, too."

He didn't leave a moment for Rick to respond, pushing passed him to make his way out of the cellblock. He'd have to hurry if he was going to catch up with Merle; from the dried state of Jamie's head wound, he knew that the other man had at least an hour on him already. Michonne probably slowed him down a bit, but not so much that Daryl could spare anymore time lagging.

Rick remained close by as Hershel cleaned the wound on the back of Jamie's head; thankfully it wouldn't require stitches, which the amount of blood had given the impression of when they'd seen her hair. Head wounds bled a lot, Hershel commented as he recruited Beth to hold the gauze in place until the remainder of the bleeding stopped. Jamie remained completely out of it, the blow enough to really put her out.

"Thankfully, there's no concussion this time," Hershel assured as he washed the small amount of blood from his hands. "It was a small cut, mostly just because of the brick surface she hit. She should be up in a few hours. There's gunna be a headache for a bit, maybe the next day, but she's strong. She'll get through it."

"Thank you, Hershel," Rick mumbled, keeping an eye on where Jamie lay, Beth perched beside her as she did her job and stopped the bleeding. Maggie already promised to make sure Judith was alright so that Beth wasn't worried about having to rush away. Everyone could see that Beth had a bit of an attachment to Jamie, kind of like how Carl idolized Daryl.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," the older man pointed out as he glanced down to his hands, the damp rag smeared pale red while his hands were once more pale and clean, though strongly calloused. "What's the matter, Rick?"

No matter how he tried to hide it, Hershel always had a way of seeing right through him. Jamie had a similar talent that he'd heard Daryl complain about it a time or two as well.

His attention flickered from Hershel to Jamie for a moment, remember that gut-dropping fear that had wrapped around him the second he'd rounded the doorway to find Jamie on the floor. "When we found her…that first glimpse I got and all I could think of was that she was dead. That I was the one to let someone into the prison and he'd killed her. Then I felt her chest moving under my hand and I felt her pulse, I knew she was alive, but for that one instant I was terrified that inviting Merle into this prison had killed her."

Hershel could see in Rick's eyes that he spoke only the truth—even the fear he was referring to was reflected so clearly in the soft blue that Hershel could only pity the younger man. "I've had a chance to speak with Merle while he was here, and I know he'd never do harm to her." There was a flicker in Rick's eyes, one that Hershel knew well. "It's true. Hurting Jamie would hurt Daryl, and Merle only wants to do what he can to protect and provide for his brother—not in the most conventional ways, but it seems to be all he knows."

Rick's tone nearly dropped to a growl as he leaned closer to Hershel. "I'm pretty sure _slamming_ her head against a wall is considered hurting her-"

"He could have done far worse, Rick, and you _know_ that. He only wanted to her guns. He wanted to stop her from getting in the way, so he needed her unconscious. Out of all the things he could have done, this is the least harmful."

Exhaling strongly through his nose, forcing himself to calm down, Rick knew that Hershel was right. Merle could just as easily have killed her if he wanted to stop her. Thinking back on it now, he also realized that he put her somewhere that she would be safest while both keeping her unfound and away from walkers that might get into the tombs. The door had been closed as firmly as possible without a lock. Her wrists were bound but her ankles left free. He only wanted her out of the way.

"Gather the group out in the courtyard for me," Rick requested calmly. "I need to talk to everyone."

While the others made their way out into the cooling autumn air, gathering before Rick as he stood with a solemn look on his face, Jamie shifted where she was lying on the cot she shared with Daryl.

Pain ricocheted through her skull as her consciousness returned, forcing a wince and a hiss through her teeth. She was careful with opening her eyes, hesitant about any light that might penetrate her sensitive retinas. However, the cellblock was beginning to darken as the sun started its descent for the day. She could recognize the angle of the light through the windows.

_Merle._

The memory of the man slamming her head into the wall, the sickening sound of it still echoing in her mind, caused her to vault into a sitting position so fast the entire room spun around her. "Shit," she swore faintly, her hand moving to the back of her skull where the pain was beginning to ebb. Her hair was crusty with blood, but she felt no bandages and gentle probing only resulting in her finding one small wound. It was probably caused by a protruding piece of brick.

Letting the world settle again, she stood much more carefully than when she'd sat up and made sure to keep a strong hold of the top bunk so as not to fall over.

The cellblock was silent around her, a cause for concern since there was usually something going on—whether it was Judith being fussy or someone cleaning guns. There was always some kind of sound that assured her the group was there.

But she was alone now.

If they weren't in the cellblock, they had to be outside.

Standing in front of the group as he was, Rick tried not to think too much on the night after the farm had fallen. He tried not to remember how he'd fallen apart so completely in Jamie's arms, or how the group had been so close to turning on him, staring him down with complete distrust. He didn't want them to look at him like that again. They were his family now. All of them.

"When I met with the Governor, he offered me a deal. He said he would leave us alone if I gave him Michonne. And…I was gunna do that…to keep us safe. I changed my mind. But now Merle took Michonne to fulfil the deal, and Daryl went to stop him and I don't know if it's too late." Looking around, he could see the stirrings of doubt and mistrust in some of the familiar faces around him. The sight made him nauseous.

"I was _wrong_ not to tell you. And I'm sorry. What I said last year, that first night after the farm, it can't be like that. It can't. What we do, what we're willing to do, who we are, it's _not_ my call. It can't be. I couldn't sacrifice one of us for the greater good, because we _are_ the greater good. _We're_ the reason we're still here, not me. This is life and death. How you live…how you die…it isn't up to me. I'm not your _Governor_. _We_ choose to go. _We_ choose to stay. We stick together. We vote; we can stay and we can fight, or we can go."

He knew he couldn't stay out with the rest of them; they needed time to make their own decisions without him there. So, he walked away. At first, he wanted to go and visit Jamie to see if she was awake, but Hershel had assured that she wouldn't wake up for a few hours. Instead, he went to one of the second story balconies, overlooking the yard.

With everyone in the courtyard they didn't have anyone on watch. He'd give them that peace of mind, and hopefully keep an eye out for any of the three missing members of their group. He wasn't quite sure of he could call Merle that, or even Michonne for that matter, but to have the two suddenly gone made him feel off. Especially since their absence had resulted in Daryl leaving as well.

Standing at the railing for not even a minute, movement along the treeline caught his attention and Rick quickly raised the rifle he'd carried up with him. The sight of Michonne, sword in hand, brought a sense of relief that quelled only a slight amount of the tension in his body.

Because Daryl and Merle weren't with her.

Abandoning the walkway to make for the gate, he wasn't so concerned with her getting through the field with the walkers there. They were dispersed away from the walkway so she just needed to be fast and take out what walkers were in her way. The metal stairs clattered loudly as he descended them, slinging the rifle over his shoulder to free his hands.

He wasn't hurried, letting Michonne make her way through the small field with her sword drawn for protection. He reached the gate just before she did and popped open the familiar locks to let her inside.

"Where's Daryl?" he asked immediately, glancing over her form to make note that she didn't seem injured at all. Michonne didn't take it personally, even though she now knew that there had been debates about handing her over to the Governor in exchange for the prison group's safety.

"Merle let me go, Daryl caught up while I was on my way back and wanted me to tell you not to let anyone follow him. He was going for Merle."

Rick's teeth gritted, looking to the ground. "The Governor will kill them," he growled out in frustration. Of course Daryl would tell them not to come after him. Although, he strongly suspected that Daryl intended for that to mean only Jamie was to be prevented from following him. Knowing her, she'd take off after the brothers in a heartbeat.

"I'm pretty sure Merle intents to kill them all before they get the chance-"

" _Rick!_ "

Beth's shriek drew the attention of both parties, their hearts jumping in their chest as they watched her race across the courtyard. A look of fear was on her face, prompting the two by the gate to immediately draw their weapons again. Had walkers gotten into the cellblock? Did he and Daryl forget to lock one of the doors on their way back with Jamie?

"Jamie's gone!" Beth shouted in a rush once she was only a few yards away from them. "Some of the guns are missing and her knife's gone. She must have taken off after Daryl!"

Rick's arms went slack in shock, the gun almost falling from his grip had it not been for the strap still looked over his arm.

_Not_ one of the smartest things that she's ever done; Jamie can admit that in complete honesty. The pain in her head was manageable—it sucked royally to be running with it, but it was still manageable—and the adrenaline of knowing that Daryl, and Merle, were off to face the Governor and his men alone. They were more than likely running into an ambush.

Her leg was healed so she could run just as efficiently as she had before, but her head was spinning enough that she had to stop at times just to make sure she was running in the right direction. Thankfully, the meeting spot was the same as last time when Rick and the Governor had first sat down to officially talk so she knew the way.

The sparse amount of walkers didn't really register to her until she started getting closer to the meeting place, noticing that there were more and more walkers stumbling around. They'd been drawn in to that specific location. Stopping a couple yards shy of the treeline, heaving for air and taking refuge against a tree for a moment, Jamie's stomach rolled at the thought of what she might find.

Closing her eyes against the pounding in the back of her skull, Jamie swore that this was the last stupid thing she was going to do—who was she kidding? Daryl was her Achilles heel; she'd always do stupid shit when it came to him. So, with that reluctant thought in mind, Jamie pushed away from the tree with her knife in hand and a gun in close reach.

It only took a couple of paces passed the treeline for her to know Daryl was there; a walker with a bolt sticking out of the back of its head was right in her path. Stopping only long enough to remove the arrow and slide it into her belt, uncaring of the gore now on her pants, Jamie quickened her pace toward the silos and buildings. The disturbing sense of déjà vu left her somewhat cautious, with irritating thoughts of Andrea in the back of her mind from when they were last here.

Glancing back the way she'd come, the sun was setting quickly along the horizon and leaving a faint pink hue peeking through the dying trees. If they were going to get back to the prison before dark they'd have to be quick.

She didn't even let herself think that she might be heading back there alone; that wasn't an option in her mind.

The dead bodies of walkers were scattered across the ground already, as well as several torn up and eaten bodies of the less fortunate. Wrinkling her nose against the smell, Jamie pushed forward as she held her breath in short increments, giving a reprieve against the stench of rotting flesh, half roasted in the sun for the past couple of hours. She didn't see any more with Daryl's arrows in their heads, but most looked to have been taken out with a bullet through the head.

Now she could understand why the compound was being surrounded by the walkers in the forest, they were drawn in by the smell of the partially eaten ones.

Walking around a large mess of human insides and blood, Jamie swallowed around the tightening in her throat when there was still no sign of Daryl or Merle. There didn't seem to be a sign of anyone alive; although the number of dead bodies confirmed that something had gone wrong for the Governor's group, more than likely orchestrated by Merle.

Rounding the corner of one of the buildings, barely more than ruins at this point, Jamie halted abruptly as her eyes came to rest on the hunched over form a couple of yards ahead. The leather vest with tattered wings on the back told her exactly who it was, back to her with his head bowed to give her the perfect view of his tell-tale vest. She almost stepped forward, her lips parting in preparation to call to him.

Why was he just sitting like that? There were walkers still walking around, and more showing up by the minute.

_Please, please don't be bit_ , she thought shakily.

Then she glanced to the dead body closest to Daryl, the face completely destroyed and unrecognizable. However, it was a bit hard not to make the connection when she saw the clothing that the walker had been wearing. _Merle_.

All at once, the tension and fear bled out of Jamie as her heart plummeted. _Oh, Daryl._ _I'm so sorry._ She never liked Merle very much, there were few moments when they got along even slightly, but she never would have wished for this death on anyone. Especially when Daryl was the one to find him and put him down.

"Daryl," she called softly; even to her own ears her voice sounded strangled and raw.

His shoulders flinched when she spoke, but he didn't look up.

Jamie's feet barely made any noise as she approached, ignoring the smell of rotting flesh as she moved to kneel behind Daryl's prone form—he was trembling just slightly. "Daryl, I'm so sorry." Her hand came to rest on his arm, trying her best to ignore the way he was shaking beneath her touch, before her forehead came to rest on his shoulder.

She knew there was nothing more than could be said. When her parents had died he had been there for her. That was all she needed; someone to hold her when she was going through the worst pain in her life thus far. Words can never change what happened or make it better, so sometimes it was best to just remain silent.

They sat there for several minutes, Jamie's attention keen around them as she made sure that no walkers approached while Daryl was weak, giving him his chance to mourn. Thankfully, the overwhelming smell of rotting walkers seemed to mask them. Eventually, she felt Daryl lean back into her the slightest bit, the faint pressure all she needed as prompt as she shifted to wrap her arms securely around his shoulders, her face pressed into his hair.

The sun continued to set with the world darkening around them. Jamie didn't care about that anymore. She'd rather remain here and let Daryl have however long he needed, rather than rush back to the prison to beat the night.

When he released a shaky breath and reached up to clasp one of her hands, his skin chilled from the autumn air, she knew he would be alright.


End file.
